We go to gain a little patch of ground that hath in it no profit but the name.

Listen to many, speak to a few.

How many fond fools serve mad jealousy!

These blessed candles of the night.

This thing of darkness I acknowlege mine. There is nothing more confining than the prison we don't know we are in.

There is a kind of character in thy life, That to the observer doth thy history, fully unfold.

Let us kill all lawyers