Conscience is a blushing, shamefaced spirit than mutinies in a man's bosom; it fills one full of obstacles.

What a piece of work is a man, how noble in reason, how infinite in faculties, in form and moving how express and admirable, in action how like an angel, in apprehension how like a god.

There are occasions and causes, why and wherefore in all things.

I have bought golden opinions from all sorts of people.

I am in blood Stepp'd in so far, that, should I wade no more, Returning were as tedious as go o'er.

...Vaulted with such ease into his seat, As if an angel dropp'd down from the clouds, To turn and wind a fiery Pegasus, And witch the world with noble horsemanship.

O Helena, goddess, nymph, perfect, divine! To what, my love, shall I compare thine eyne? Crystal is muddy. O, how ripe in show Thy lips, those kissing cherries, tempting grow!