Sometimes we are devils to ourselves When we will tempt the frailty of our powers, Presuming on their changeful potency.

Muster your wits; stand in your own defence.

He hath eaten me out of house and home.

Thus have I, Wall, my part discharged so; And, being done, thus Wall away doth go.

Time's the king of men; he's both their parent, and he is their grave, and gives them what he will, not what they crave.

I will speak daggers to her, but use none.

Ay, but to die and go we know not where; To lie in cold obstrution and to rot; This sensible warm motion to become A kneaded clod; and the delighted spirit To bathe in fiery floods or to reside In thrilling regions of thick-ribbed ice; To be imprison'd in the viewless winds, And blown with restless violence round about The pendant world.