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

Brevity is the soul of wit.

Since mine own doors refuse to entertain me, I'll knock elsewhere, to see if they'll disdain me

Barnes are blessings.

Assume a virtue, if you have it not. That monster, custom, who all sense doth eat; Of habits devil, is angel yet in this.

She is mine own, And I as rich in having such a jewel As twenty seas, if all their sand were pearl, The water nectar, and the rocks pure gold.

she shall scant show well that now shows best.