To sue to live, I find I seek to die; And, seeking death, find life: let it come on.

I am bewitched with the rogue's company. If the rascal have not given me medicines to make me love him, I'll be hanged.

GLOUCESTER: I do not know that Englishman alive With whom my soul is any jot at odds, More than the infant that is born to-night: I thank my God for my humility.

With these shreds They vented their complainings, which being answered And a petition granted them, a strange one, To break the heart of generosity, And make bold power look pale, they threw their caps As they would hang them on the horns o' th' moon, Shouting their emulation.

Forbear to judge, for we are sinners all.

Why, then the world ’s mine oyster, Which I with sword will open.

Manhood is melted into courtesies, valor into compliment, and men are only turned into tongue, and trim ones, too.