I hope to see London once ere I die.

Love is merely a madness, and, I tell you, deserves as well a dark house and a whip as madmen do.

Out, damned spot! out, I say! One: two: why, then 'tis time to do't. Hell is murky!

Falsehood falsehood cures

For she had eyes and chose me.

There is some soul of goodness in things evil, Would men observingly distill it out.

Those friends thou hast, and their adoption tried, Grapple them to thy soul with hoops of steel; But do not dull thy palm with entertainment Of each new-hatch'd, unfledg'd comrade.