Our thoughts are ours, their ends none of our own
A lion among ladies is a most dreadful thing.
For love, thou know'st, is full of jealousy
Glendower: I can call the spirits from the vasty deep. Hotspur: Why, so can I, or so can any man; But will they come, when you do call for them?
The more pity, that fools may not speak wisely what wise men do foolishly.
How many a holy and obsequious tear hath dear religious love stolen from mine eye, as interest of the dead!