It is great To do that thing that ends all other deeds, Which shackles accidents and bolts up change.

So many horrid Ghosts.

I will praise any man that will praise me.

Ay, Much is the force of heaven-bred poesy.

And I will make it felony to drink small beer.

Hot and hasty, like a Scotch jig.

All that glisters is not gold; Often have you heard that told.