Oppose not rage while rage is in its force, but give it way a while and let it waste.

Thy wish was father, Harry, to that thought.

I am indeed not her fool, but her corrupter of words. (Act III, sc. I, 37-38)

In peace there's nothing so becomes a man As modest stillness and humility: But when the blast of war blows in our ears, Then imitate the action of the tiger; Stiffen the sinews, summon up the blood, Disguise fair nature with hard-favour'd rage; Then lend the eye a terrible aspect; . . . . Now set the teeth and stretch the nostril wide, Hold hard the breath and bend up every spirit To his full height. On, on, you noblest English.

I loved Ophelia. Forty thousand brothers could not, with all their quantity of love, make up my sum.

And this, our life, exempt from public haunt, finds tongues in trees, books in the running brooks, sermons in stones, and good in everything.

They have been at a great feast of languages, and stolen the scraps.