An honest man, sir, is able to speak for himself, when a knave is not.

The undiscovered country from whose bourn no traveler returns.

Hopeless and helpless doth Egeon wend, But to procrastinate his liveless end.

Beggar that I am, I am even poor in thanks, but I thank you; and sure, dear friends, my thanks are too dear a halfpenny.

To die: - to sleep: No more; and, by a sleep to say we end The heart-ache and the thousand natural shocks That flesh is heir to, 'tis a consummation Devoutly to be wished.

Love is merely a madness, and, I tell you, deserves as well a dark house and a whip as madmen do.

Shall I compare thee to a summer day? Thou art more lovely and more temperate... When in eternal lines to time thou growst So long as men can breathe or eyes can see, So long lives this, and this gives life to thee.