She speaks poniards, and every word stabs: if her breath were as terrible as her terminations, there were no living near her; she would infect to the north star. I would not marry her, though she were endowed with all that Adam bad left him before he transgressed.

Thou canst not speak of what thou dost not feel.

To be generous, guiltless, and of a free disposition is to take those things for bird-bolts that you deem cannon-bullets.

Fit for the mountains and the barbarous caves, where manners ne'er were preached.

Death makes no conquest of this conqueror: For now he lives in fame, though not in life.

Polonius: Do you know me, my lord? Hamlet: Excellent well. You are a fishmonger.

Ay, but hearken, sir; though the chameleon Love can feed on the air, I am one that am nourished by my victuals, and would fain have meat.