We must take the current when it serves, or lose our ventures.

Come, gentlemen, I hope we shall drink down all unkindness.

Death lies on her like an untimely frost.

O, how I faint when I of you do write, Knowing a better spirit doth use your name, And in the praise thereof spends all his might To make me tongue-tied speaking of your fame.

To thine own self be true, and it must follow, as the night the day, thou canst not then be false to any man.

In delay there lies no plenty.

Give me my robe, put on my crown; I have Immortal longings in me.