I never see thy face but I think upon hell-fire.

Who riseth from a feast With that keen appetite that he sits down?

Gloucester, we have done deeds of charity, made peace of enmity, fair love of hate, between these swelling wrong-incensed peers.

Some are born great, some achieve greatness, and some have greatness thrust upon them.

I pray you, do not fall in love with me, for I am falser than vows made in wine.

Scorn, at first, makes after-love the more.

If you can look into the seeds of time, and say which grain will grow and which will not, speak then unto me.