Best men oft are moulded out of faults.
You abilities are too infant-like for doing much alone.
There is nothing serious in Mortality
Will you walk out of the air, my lord? HAMLET Into my grave.
Do all men kill the things they do not love ............ The quality of mercy is not strain'd It droppeth as the gentle rain from heaven Upon the place beneath: it is twice blest It blesseth him that gives and him that takes
O, she misused me past the endurance of a block.