Every cloud engenders not a storm.
The one I love is the son of the one I hate! -Juliet p. 75
Thus die I, thus, thus, thus. Now am I dead, Now am I fled; My soul is in the sky: Tongue, lose thy light; Moon take thy flight. Now die, die, die, die, die.
What, can the devil speak true?
I am such a tender ass, if my hair do but tickle me, I must scratch.
ROSENCRANTZ My lord, you must tell us where the body is, and go with us to the king. HAMLET The body is with the king, but the king is not with the body. The king is a thing - GUILDENSTERN A thing my lord? HAMLET Of nothing. Bring me to him. Hide fox, and all after!