The sense of death is most in apprehension, And the poor beetle, that we tread upon, In corporal sufferance finds a pang as great As when a giant dies.

Men should be what they seem; Or those that be not, would they might seem none!.

I have had a most rare vision. I have had a dream, past the wit of man to say what dream it was.

Hopeless and helpless doth Egeon wend, But to procrastinate his liveless end.

Or art thou but / A dagger of the mind, a false creation, / Proceeding from the heat-oppressed brain?

He is deformed, crooked, old and sere, Ill-faced, worse bodied, shapeless everywhere; Vicious, ungentle, foolish, blunt, unkind; Stigmatical in making, worse in mind.

Thou shalt be free As mountain winds: but then exactly do All points of my command.