They that touch pitch will be defiled.

How well he's read, to reason against reading!

Show me a mistress that is passing fair, what doth her beauty serve but as a note where I may read who pass'd that passing fair?

A great perturbation in nature, to receive at once the benefit of sleep and do the effects of watching!

Hamlet: Lady, shall I lie in your lap? Ophelia: No, my lord. Hamlet: DId you think I meant country matters? Ophelia: I think nothing, my lord. Hamlet: That's a fair thought to lie between maids' legs. Ophelia: What is, my lord? Hamlet: Nothing.

Graze on my lips; and if those hills be dry, stray lower, where the pleasant fountains lie.

What should we speak of When we are old as you? when we shall hear The rain and wind beat dark December? how, In this our pinching cave, shall we discourse The freezing hours away?