Not a whit, we defy augury: there's a special providence in the fall of a sparrow. If it be now, 'tis not to come; if it be not to come, it will be now; if it be not now, yet it will come: the readiness is all.

What made me love thee? let that persuade thee, there's something extraordinary in thee

For mine own part, it was Greek to me.

We must be brief when traitors brave the field.

Such tricks hath strong imagination, That, if it would but apprehend some joy, It comprehends some bringer of that joy; Or in the night, imagining some fear, How easy is a bush supposed a bear!

We cannot all be masters.

You speak an infinite deal of nothing.