I wish you all the joy that you can wish.

'Tis pride that pulls the country down.

With these shreds They vented their complainings, which being answered And a petition granted them, a strange one, To break the heart of generosity, And make bold power look pale, they threw their caps As they would hang them on the horns o' th' moon, Shouting their emulation.

Lay her i' the earth: And from her fair and unpolluted flesh May violets spring! I tell thee, churlish priest, A ministering angel shall my sister be, When thou liest howling. HAMLET. What, the fair Ophelia! QUEEN GERTRUDE. Sweets to the sweet: farewell!

If fortune torments me, hope contents me.

Or art thou but / A dagger of the mind, a false creation, / Proceeding from the heat-oppressed brain?

To be generous, guiltless, and of a free disposition is to take those things for bird-bolts that you deem cannon-bullets.