Comfort's in heaven, and we are on the earth

Or art thou but / A dagger of the mind, a false creation, / Proceeding from the heat-oppressed brain?

Hopeless and helpless doth Egeon wend, But to procrastinate his liveless end.

Hath Romeo slain himself? Say thou but ay, And that bare vowel ay shall poison more Than the death-darting eye of cockatrice. I am not I,if there be such an ay, Or those eyes shut,that make thee answer ay: If he be slain say ay,or if not,no: Brief sounds,determine of my weal or woe.

It is great To do that thing that ends all other deeds, Which shackles accidents and bolts up change.

All the world's a stage ... and you better have a zoning variance or it's coming down.

The law hath not been dead, though it hath slept.