Silence is the perfectest herault of joy. I were but little happy if I could say how much.

Time goes on crutches till love have all his rites.

Out, damned spot! out, I say! One: two: why, then 'tis time to do't. Hell is murky!

Foul words is but foul wind, and foul wind is but foul breath, and foul breath is noisome; therefore I will depart unkissed.

He that hath the steerage of my course, Direct my sail.

Time travels in divers paces with divers persons. I'll tell you who Time ambles withal, who Time trots withal, who Time gallops withal, and who he stands still withal.

Women are not In their best fortunes strong, but want will perjure the ne'er-touched vestal.