By heaven, I do love: and it hath taught me to rhyme, and to be mekancholy.

Reputation is an idle and most false imposition; oft got without merit, and lost without deserving.

This is his uncle's teaching, this Worcester, Malevolent to you In all aspects, Which makes him prune himself and bristle up The crest of youth against your dignity.

He hath borne himself beyond the promise of his age, doing, in the figure of a lamb, the feats of a lion.

Cordelia! stay a little. Ha! What is't thou say'st? Her voice was ever soft.

I am not bound to please thee with my answer.

This goodly frame, the earth, seems to me a sterile promontory, this most excellent canopy, the air, look you, this brave o'erhanging firmament, this majestical roof fretted with golden fire, why, it appears no other thing to me than a foul and pestilent congregation of vapours. What a piece of work is a man! how noble in reason! how infinite in faculty! in form and moving how express and admirable! in action how like an angel! in apprehension how like a god! the beauty of the world! the paragon of animals! And yet, to me, what is this quintessence of dust?