If chance will have me king, why, chance may crown me.

O! that a man might know The end of this day's business, ere it come; But it sufficeth that the day will end, And then the end is known.

Bloody instructions, which, being taught, return to plague the inventor.

Or art thou but / A dagger of the mind, a false creation, / Proceeding from the heat-oppressed brain?

Well, I must be patient; there is no fettering of authority.

Have you not love enough to bear with me, when that rash humor which my mother gave me makes me forgetful.

Who is it can read a woman?