Sycorax has grown into a hoop

Why, this hath not a finger's dignity.

Vaulting ambition, which o'erleaps itself And falls on the other side

Do all men kill the things they do not love ............ The quality of mercy is not strain'd It droppeth as the gentle rain from heaven Upon the place beneath: it is twice blest It blesseth him that gives and him that takes

The barge she sat in, like a burnish'd throne, Burnt on the water.

It is the cowish terror of his spirit that dares not undertake; he'll not feel wrongs which tie him to an answer.

ROMEO to BALTHASAR But if thou, jealous, dost return to pry In what I further shall intend to do, By heaven, I will tear thee joint by joint And strew this hungry churchyard with thy limbs: The time and my intents are savage-wild, More fierce and more inexorable far Than empty tigers or the roaring sea.