Character is what emerges from all the little things you were too busy to do yesterday, but did anyway.
There's an awful lot of blood around that water is thicker than.
The neurotic thinks himself both Hamlet and Claudius, in a world that belongs to Polonius.
We welcome passion, for the mind is briefly let off duty.
There's no way to repay a mother's love, or lack of it.
We semaphore from ship to ship, but they're sinking, too.