Now see that noble and most sovereign reason, Like sweet bells jangled, out of tune and harsh.
Take pains. Be perfect.
Dreams, indeed, are ambition; for the very substance of the ambitious is merely the shadow of a dream. And I hold ambition of so airy and light a quality that it is but a shadow's shadow.
The world is grown so bad, That wrens make prey where eagles dare not perch.
Things in motion sooner catch the eye than what not stirs.
O sleep! O gentle sleep! Nature's soft nurse.