He is well paid that is well satisfied.

It is as easy to count atomies as to resolve the propositions of a lover.

No deeper wrinkles yet? Hath sorrow struck So many blows upon this face of mine And made no deeper wounds?

The time is out of joint : O cursed spite, that ever I was born to set it right!

The sudden hand of Death close up mine eye!

The elephant hath joints, but none for courtesy; his legs are legs for necessity, not for flexure.

Is it possible he should know what he is, and be that he is?