My wits begin to turn.

For 'tis the sport to have the engineer Hoist with his own petar; and't shall go hard But I will delve one yard below their mines And blow them at the moon.

Oft expectation fails, and most oft there where most it promises; and oft it hits where hope is coldest, and despair most fits.

Believe then, if you please, that I can do strange things. [Act 5, Scene 2]

Reputation is an idle and most false imposition; oft got without merit, and lost without deserving.

My love admits no qualifying dross

Gloucester, we have done deeds of charity, made peace of enmity, fair love of hate, between these swelling wrong-incensed peers.