All the world is a stage and we are merely players.
Your worm is your only emperor for diet; we fat all creatures else to fat us, and we fat ourselves for maggots.
Our doubts are traitors and make us lose the good we oft might win by fearing to attempt.
Making night hideous.
Hate pollutes the mind.
I praise God for you, sir: your reasons at dinner have been sharp and sententious; pleasant without scurrility, witty without affectation, audacious without impudency, learned without opinion, and strange with-out heresy.