Give every man thy ear, but few thy voice.

I can call spirits from the vasty deep.

Would it not grieve a woman to be over-mastered by a piece of valiant dust? to make an account of her life to a clod of wayward marle?

For naught so vile that on the earth doth live But to the earth some special good doth give.

Farewell, good Salisbury, and good luck go with thee!

When a gentlemen is disposed to swear, it is not for any standers-by to curtail his oaths.

Melancholy is the nurse of frenzy.