Danger knows full well that Caesar is more dangerous than he. We are two lions litter’d in one day, and I the elder and more terrible.

A heavy heart bears not a nimble tongue.

I cannot speak your england.

All fancy-sick she is and pale of cheer, with sighs of love, that costs the fresh blood dear.

Rich honesty dwells like a miser, Sir, in a poor house; as your pearl in your foul oyster.

Why, what's the matter, That you have such a February face, So full of frost, of storm and cloudiness?

Words, words, mere words, no matter from the heart.