Men prize the thing ungained more than it is.

Death rock me asleep.

He hath a heart as sound as a bell, and his tongue is the clapper; for what his heart thinks his tongue speaks.

I'll make my heaven in a lady's lap

We are such stuff as dreams are made on; and our little life is rounded with a sleep.

Nor shall this peace sleep with her; but as when The bird of wonder dies, the maiden phoenix, Her ashes new-create another heir As great in admiration as herself.

Kindness nobler ever than revenge.