Farewell! God knows when we shall meet again.

Violent fires soon burn out themselves, small showers last long, but sudden storms are short; he tires betimes that spurs too fast.

To die: - to sleep: No more; and, by a sleep to say we end The heart-ache and the thousand natural shocks That flesh is heir to, 'tis a consummation Devoutly to be wished.

The eye of man hath not heard, the ear of man hath not seen, man's hand is not able to taste, his tongue to conceive, nor his heart to report, what my dream was.

Double, double, toil and trouble; Fire burn, and cauldron bubble!

POLONIUS: What do you read, my lord? HAMLET: Words, words, words.

Virtue that transgresses is but patched with sin; and sin that amends is but patched with virtue.