Tis but a base, ignoble mind That mounts no higher than a bird can soar.

Be wise as thou art cruel, do not press My tongue-tied patience with too much disdain: Lest sorrow lend me words and words express, The manner of my pity-wanting pain.

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

A high hope for a low heaven: God grant us patience!

And do as adversaries do in law, strive mightily, but eat and drink as friends.

I am one, sir, that comes to tell you your daughter and the Moor are now making the beast with two backs.(IAGO,ActI,SceneI)

The miserable have no other medicine But only hope.