Better conquest never canst thou make than arm thy constant and thy nobler parts against giddy, loose suggestions.

I may neither choose who I would, nor refuse who I dislike; so is the will of a living daughter curbed by the will of a dead father.

The most peerless piece of earth, I think, that e' er the sun shone bright on.

If the skin were parchment and the blows you gave were ink, Your own handwriting would tell you what I think.

The eye of man hath not heard, the ear of man hath not seen, man's hand is not able to taste, his tongue to conceive, nor his heart to report, what my dream was.

Nature hath framed strange fellows in her time.

Brevity is the soul of wit.