It is as easy to count atomies as to resolve the propositions of a lover.
Murder most foul, as in the best it it; But this most foul, strange, and unnatural.
Is there no pity sitting in the clouds, That sees into the bottom of my grief?
Beware the leader who bangs the drums of war in order to whip the citizenry into a patriotic fervor.
Every great drama has its foreshadow.
Like madness, is the glory of this life.