To beguile the time, look like the time. Bear welcome in your eye, your hand, your tongue.

Something is rotten in the state of Denmark.

You see me here, you gods, a poor old man, As full of grief as age; wretched in both.

It is held that valor is the chiefest virtue, and most dignifies the haver.

The words of Mercury are harsh after the songs of Apollo.

Honesty is not the best policy - merely the safest

You common cry of curs! whose breath I hate As reek o' the rotten fens, whose loves I prize As the dead carcasses of unburied men That do corrupt my air, I banish you; And here remain with your uncertainty!