To whom God will, there be the victory.

He took the bride about the neck and kissed her lips with such a clamorous smack that at the parting all the church did echo.

For man is a giddy thing, and this is my conclusion.

My father names me Autolycus, who being, as I am, littered under Mercury, was likewise a snapper-up of unconsidered trifles.

Use almost can change the stamp of nature.

He is not worthy of the honey-comb, that shuns the hives because the bees have stings.

Too much of water hast thou, poor Ophelia, And therefore I forbid my tears.