Tis the eye of childhood that fears a painted devil.

If music be the food of love, play on, Give me excess of it; that surfeiting, The appetite may sicken, and so die.

Indeed, sir, he that sleeps feels not the toothache; but a man that were to sleep your sleep, and a hangman to help him to bed, I think he would change places with his officer; for look you, sir, you know not which way you shall go.

O thou invisible spirit of wine, if thou has no name to be known by, let us call thee devil....O God, that men should put an enemy in their mouths to steal away their brains! that we should, with joy, pleasance revel and applause, transform ourselves into beasts!

When rich villains have need of poor ones, poor ones may make what price they will

O, pardon me, thou bleeding piece of earth, / That I am meek and gentle with these butchers!

Perseverance... keeps honor bright: to have done, is to hang quite out of fashion, like a rusty nail in monumental mockery.