Murder most foul, as in the best it it; But this most foul, strange, and unnatural.
Is there no pity sitting in the clouds, That sees into the bottom of my grief?
The icy precepts of respect.
I have no way and therefore want no eyes I stumbled when I saw. Full oft 'tis seen our means secure us, and our mere defects prove our commodities.
The nature of bad news affects the teller.
Macduff: What three things does drink especially provoke? Porter: Marry, sir, nose-painting, sleep, and urine.