For God's sake, let us sit upon the ground, and tell sad stories of the death of kings... All murdered; for within the hollow crown that rounds the mortal temples of a king, keeps Death his court... and with a little pin bores through his castle wall, and farewell king!

Lord, Lord, how this world is given to lying!

Comfort's in heaven, and we are on the earth

I have seen better faces in my time Than stands on any shoulder that I see Before me at this instant.

Discuss unto me: art thou officer, Or art thou base, common, and popular?

Let every eye negotiate for itself and trust no agent.

Ere yet the salt of most unrighteous tears Had left the flushing of her gallèd eyes, She married. O, most wicked speed, to post With such dexterity to incestuous sheets!