A fool thinks himself to be wise, but a wise man knows himself to be a fool.

I will be brief. Your noble son is mad.

The worm is not to be trusted.

thou art the best o' the cut-throats

How quickly nature falls into revolt When gold becomes her object! For this the foolish over-careful fathers Have broke their sleep with thoughts, their brains with care, Their bones with industry.

Awake, dear heart, awake. Thou hast slept well. Awake.

Nor shall this peace sleep with her; but as when The bird of wonder dies, the maiden phoenix, Her ashes new-create another heir As great in admiration as herself.