Oh, flatter me; for love delights in praises.

Fair, kind, and true, have often lived alone.

O, what a world of vile ill-favored faults, looks handsome in three hundred pounds a year!

If I for my opinion bleed, opinion shall be surgeon to my hurt, and keep me on the side where still I am.

POLONIUS: What do you read, my lord? HAMLET: Words, words, words.

Yet who would have thought the old man to have had so much blood in him? - Lady Macbeth

Now, God be praised, that to believing souls gives light in darkness, comfort in despair.