Something is rotten in the state of Denmark.
I am as vigilant as a cat to steal cream.
I was not born under a rhyming planet, nor I cannot woo to in festival terms.
I can get no remedy against this consumption of the purse: borrowing only lingers and lingers it out, but the disease is incurable.
When you depart from me sorrow abides and happiness takes his leave.
Mine eyes Were not in fault, for she was beautiful; Mine ears, that heard her flattery; nor my heart, That thought her like her seeming. It had been vicious To have mistrusted her.