Forbear to judge, for we are sinners all.

Truly thou art damned, like an ill-roasted egg, all on one side.

Be just, and fear not.

Thrift, thrift, Horatio! The funeral bak'd meats did coldly furnish forth the marriage tables.

Conceal me what I am, and be my aid for such disguise as haply shall become the form of my intent.

Why, all delights are vain; but that most vain, Which, with pain purchas'd, doth inherit pain.

My father names me Autolycus, who being, as I am, littered under Mercury, was likewise a snapper-up of unconsidered trifles.