POLONIUS: What do you read, my lord? HAMLET: Words, words, words.
In delay there lies no plenty.
I desire you in friendship, and I will one way or other make you amends.
Love bears it out even to the edge of doom.
I would there were no age between sixteen and three-and-twenty, or that youth would sleep out the rest; for there is nothing in the between but getting wenches with child, wronging the ancientry, stealing, fighting
For I have neither wit, nor words, nor worth, Action, nor utterance, nor the power of speech, To stir men's blood: I only speak right on; I tell you that which you yourselves do know.