I did never know so full a voice issue from so empty a heart: but the saying is true 'The empty vessel makes the greatest sound'.

Out, damned spot! out, I say! One: two: why, then 'tis time to do't. Hell is murky!

How sweet the moonlight sleeps upon this bank! Here will we sit, and let the sounds of music Creep in our ears; soft stillness and the night Become the touches of sweet harmony. Sit, Jessica: look, how the floor of heaven Is thick inlaid with patines of bright gold; There's not the smallest orb which thou behold'st But in his motion like an angel sings, Still quiring to the young-eyed cherubins. Such harmony is in immortal souls; But whilst this muddy vesture of decay Doth grossly close it in, we cannot hear it.

Thyself shall see the act; For, as thou urgest justice, be assured Thou shalt have justice, more than thou desir'st.

They that stand high have many blasts to shake them.

If the skin were parchment and the blows you gave were ink, Your own handwriting would tell you what I think.

it is not enough to speak, but to speak truee