Tis mad idolatry To make the service greater than the god.
You have dancing shoes with nimble soles. I have a soul of lead.
I shall show the cinders of my spirits Through the ashes of my chance.
Do you see yonder cloud that’s almost in shape of a camel? Polonius: By the mass, and ‘tis like a camel, indeed. Hamlet: Methinks it is like a weasel. Polonius: It is backed like a weasel. Hamlet: Or like a whale? Polonius: Very like a whale.
Ill met by moonlight, proud Titania
Let us kill all lawyers