Go to you bosom: Knock there, and ask your heart what it doth know.

A lion among ladies is a most dreadful thing.

It is not, nor it cannot, come to good, But break, my heart, for I must hold my tongue.

Lord Polonius: What do you read, my lord? Hamlet: Words, words, words. Lord Polonius: What is the matter, my lord? Hamlet: Between who? Lord Polonius: I mean, the matter that you read, my lord.

I cannot be a man with wishing, therefore I will die a woman with grieving.

We cannot fight for love, as men may do; we shou'd be woo'd, and were not made to woo

Thrust your head into the public street, to gaze on Christian fools with varnish'd faces.