My tongue will tell the anger of my heart, or else my heart concealing it will break.

If you would persuade, you must appeal to interest rather than intellect. We are advertis'd by our loving friends.

Though patience be a tired mare, yet she will plod.

Thrift, thrift, Horatio! The funeral bak'd meats did coldly furnish forth the marriage tables.

A nun of winter's sisterhood kisses not more religiously; the very ice of chastity is in them.

All the world's a stage, and all the men and women merely players: they have their exits and their entrances; and one man in his time plays many parts, his acts being seven ages.

Death rock me asleep.