O, train me not, sweet mermaid, with thy note, to drown me in thy sister’s flood of tears.

Too much of water hast thou, poor Ophelia, And therefore I forbid my tears: But yet It is our trick; nature her custom holds, Let shame say what it will: when these are gone, The woman will be out. — Adieu, my lord! I have a speech of fire, that fain would blaze, But that this folly drowns it.

Be merry; you have cause, so have we all, of joy; for our escape is much beyond our loss . . . . then wisely weigh our sorrow with our comfort.

ROSS You must have patience, madam. LADY MACDUFF He had none: His flight was madness: when our actions do not, Our fears do make us traitors.

Juliet is the east and i am the sun.

My age is as a lusty winter, frosty but kindly.

Look on beauty, and you shall see 'tis purchased by the weight.