Forbear to judge, for we are sinners all.
Taste your legs, sire: put them into motion.
Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune, Or to take arms against a sea of troubles, And by opposing end them?
What is thy sentence then but speechless death.
It is the bright day that brings forth the adder, and that craves wary walking.
Tis ever common That men are merriest when they are from home.