The tempter or the tempted, who sins most? Ha! Not she: nor doth she tempt: but it is I That, lying by the violet in the sun, Do as the carrion does, not as the flower, Corrupt with virtuous season.

Honour travels in a strait so narrow Where one but goes abreast.

Thrift, thrift, Horatio! The funeral bak'd meats did coldly furnish forth the marriage tables.

He that is robbed, not wanting what is stolen, him not know t, and he's not robbed at all.

Sweet Beatrice, wouldst thou come when I called thee? BEATRICE Yea, signior, and depart when you bid me. BENEDICK O, stay but till then! BEATRICE 'Then' is spoken; fare you well now... (Much Ado About Nothing)

Men shut their doors against a setting sun.

Still it cried ‘Sleep no more!’ to all the house: ‘Glamis hath murder’d sleep, and therefore Cawdor shall sleep no more,—Macbeth shall sleep no more!