POLONIUS: What do you read, my lord? HAMLET: Words, words, words.
O time, thou must untangle this, not I. It is too hard a knot for me t'untie.
Being daily swallowed by men's eyes, They surfeited with honey and began To loathe the taste of sweetness, whereof a little More than a little is by much too much. So, when he had occasion to be seen, He was but as the cuckoo is in June. Heard, not regarded.
Sufferance is the badge of all our tribe.
The law hath not been dead, though it hath slept.
When he is best, he is a little worse than a man; and when he is worst, he is little better than a beast.