Every subject's duty is the Kings, but every subject's soul is his own.

If music be the food of love, play on.

The painful warrior famous for fight, After a thousand victories, once foil'd, Is from the books of honor razed quite, And all the rest forgot for which he toil'd

Good Hamlet, cast thy nighted colour off ... Do not for ever with thy vailed lids Seek for thy noble father in the dust.

It is the very error of the moon; She comes more nearer earth than she was wont, And makes men mad.

He's mad that trusts in the tameness of a wolf.

A sad tale's best for winter. I have one of sprites and goblins.