Our thoughts are ours, their ends none of our own
O! that a man might know The end of this day's business, ere it come; But it sufficeth that the day will end, And then the end is known.
I am sir Oracle, and when I ope my lips, let no dog bark.
How much more doth beauty beauteous seem by that sweet ornament which truth doth give!
The Play's the Thing, wherein I'll catch the conscience of the King.
Oh, God! I have an ill-divining soul!