All that glisters is not gold; Often have you heard that told.

O that my tongue were in the thunder's mouth! Then with passion would I shake the world.

Fishes live in the sea, as men do a-land; the great ones eat up the little ones.

My crown is in my heart, not on my head.

All that glisters is not gold; Often have you heard that told: Many a man his life hath sold But my outside to behold: Gilded tombs do worms enfold.

Look to her, Moor, if thou has eyes to see. She has deceived her father, and may thee.

What's Hecuba to him, or he to Hecuba, That he should weep for her?