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

There is no vice so simple but assumes some mark of virtue on his outward parts.

What is the city but the people?

Lady, you know no rules of charity, Which renders good for bad, blessings for curses.

What a piece of work is a man, how noble in reason, how infinite in faculties, in form and moving how express and admirable, in action how like an angel, in apprehension how like a god.

Well, every one can master a grief but he that has it.

Ideas are the very coinage of your brain.