When you do dance, I wish you a wave o' the sea, that you might ever do nothing but that.

The undiscovered country from whose bourn no traveler returns.

What power is it which mounts my love so high, that makes me see, and cannot feed mine eye

Truth is truth to the end of reckoning.

Therefore it is most expedient for the wise, if Don Worm (his conscience) find no impediment to the contrary, to be the trumpet of his own virtues, as I am to myself.

King Henry: But what a point, my lord, your falcon made, And what a pitch she flew above the rest! To see how God in all his creatures works! Yea, man and birds are fain of climbing high. Suffolk: No marvel, an it like your majesty, My lord protectors hawks do tower so well; They know their masters loves to be aloft, And bears his thoughts above his falcon's pitch. Gloucester: My lord, 'tis but a base ignoble mind That mounts no higher than a bird can soar.

Lord, Lord, how subject we old men are to this vice of lying!