I and my bosom must debate awhile, and then I would no other company.

We are such stuff as dreams are made on; and our little life is rounded with a sleep.

Sycorax has grown into a hoop

I bear a charmed life.

To have seen much and to have nothing is to have rich eyes and poor hands.

Words without thoughts never to heaven go.

This was the noblest Roman of them all. All the conspirators, save only he,Did that they did in envy of Caesar;He only, in a general honest thoughtAnd common good to all, made one of them. His life was gentle, and the elementsSo mixd in him that Nature might stand upAnd say to all the world, This was a man!