My heart is ever at your service.
If it be a sin to covet honor, I am the most offending soul.
If love be blind, love cannot hit the mark
But most it is presumption in us when the help of heaven we count the act of men.
The big round tears Cours'd one another down his innocent nose, In piteous chase.
Hamlet: Lady, shall I lie in your lap? Ophelia: No, my lord. Hamlet: DId you think I meant country matters? Ophelia: I think nothing, my lord. Hamlet: That's a fair thought to lie between maids' legs. Ophelia: What is, my lord? Hamlet: Nothing.