Life... is a paradise to what we know of death.
You have lost no reputation at all, unless you repute yourself such a loser.
And I will make it felony to drink small beer.
...and then, in dreaming, / The clouds methought would open and show riches / Ready to drop upon me, that when I waked / I cried to dream again.
A gentleman that loves to hear himself talk, will speak more in a minute than he will stand to in a month.
Though yet of Hamlet our dear brother's death the memory be green.