Tears water our growth.

Yield not thy neck To fortunes yoke, but let thy dauntless mind Still ride in triumph over all mischance.

If it will feed nothing else, it will feed my revenge.

You taught me language, and my profit on't / Is, I know how to curse

I told you, sir, they were red-hot with drinking; so full of valor that they smote the air, for breathing in their faces, beat the ground for kissing of their feet.

Can I go forward when my heart is here? Turn back, dull earth, and find thy centre out.

Every inordinate cup is unbless'd, and the ingredient is a devil.