Go to you bosom: Knock there, and ask your heart what it doth know.
How is it that the clouds still hang on you?
Sleep, that sometimes shuts up sorrow's eye.
I understand a fury in your words But not your words.
Romeo: Courage, man; the hurt cannot be much. Mercutio: No, 'tis not so deep as a well, nor so wide as a church-door; but 'tis enough, 'twill serve. Ask for me tomorrow, and you shall find me a grave man.
Look how the world's poor people are amazed at apparitions, signs and prodigies!