Rich honesty dwells like a miser, Sir, in a poor house; as your pearl in your foul oyster.
The silence often of pure innocence persuades when speaking fails.
That which hath made them drunk hath made me bold; What hath quenched them hath given me fire.
We have some salt of our youth in us.
My dull brain was wrought with things forgotten.
Men at some time are masters of their fates. The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars, but in ourselves, that we are underlings.