Waste not thy time in windy argument but let the matter drop.

ROSS You must have patience, madam. LADY MACDUFF He had none: His flight was madness: when our actions do not, Our fears do make us traitors.

Oh, God! I have an ill-divining soul!

The brain may devise laws for the blood, but a hot temper leaps o'er a cold decree.

No longer mourn for me when I am dead than you shall hear the surly sullen bell give warning to the world that I am fled from this vile world with vilest worms to dwell: nay, if you read this line, remember not the hand that writ it, for I love you so, that I in your sweet thoughts would be forgot, if thinking on me then should make you woe. O! if, I say, you look upon this verse when I perhaps compounded am with clay, do not so much as my poor name rehearse; but let your love even with my life decay; lest the wise world should look into your moan, and mock you with me after I am gone.

I had rather live with cheese and garlic in a windmill.

The amity that wisdom knits not, folly may easily untie.