To be a well-favoured man is the gift of fortune; but to write and read comes by nature.

Good Hamlet, cast thy nighted colour off ... Do not for ever with thy vailed lids Seek for thy noble father in the dust.

Happy thou art not; for what thou hast not, still thou strivest to get; and what thou hast, forgettest.

If I must die, I will encounter darkness as a bride, and hug it in mine arms.

Glory is like a circle in the water

What is a man, if his chief good and market of his time be but to sleep and feed? a beast, no more.

Love is a smoke rais'd with the fume of sighs; being purg'd, a fire sparkling in lovers' eyes; being vex'd, a sea nourish'd with lovers' tears; what is it else? A madness most discreet, a choking gall, and a preserving sweet.