I'll go find a shadow, and sigh till he come" (Phebe)
My love is thaw'd; Which, like a waxen image 'gainst a fire, bears no impression of the thing it was
One good deed dying tongueless Slaughters a thousand waiting upon that. Our praises are our wages.
Lay on, McDuff, and be damned he who first cries, 'Hold, enough!
To be in anger is impiety, but who is man that is not angry?
How my achievements mock me!