I will do anything, Nerissa, ere I'll be married to a sponge.

After your death you were better have a bad epitaph than their ill report while you live.

I had rather live with cheese and garlic in a windmill.

Your worm is your only emperor for diet; we fat all creatures else to fat us, and we fat ourselves for maggots.

Alas, our frailty is the cause , not we! For, such as we are made of, such we be.

Do not speak like a death's-head, do not bid me remember mine end.

O sleep! O gentle sleep! Nature's soft nurse.