Time shall unfold what plaited cunning hides: Who cover faults, at last shame them derides.

Men from children nothing differ.

O, that our fathers would applause our loves, To seal our happiness with hteir consents!

There's hope a great man's memory may outlive his life half a year.

Excellent wretch! Perdition catch my soul But I do love thee! and when I love thee not, Chaos is come again.

Be not afeard; the isle is full of noises, Sounds, and sweet airs, that give delight and hurt not. Sometimes a thousand twangling instruments Will hum about mine ears; and sometime voices, That, if I then had waked after long sleep, Will make me sleep again: and then, in dreaming, The clouds methought would open, and show riches Ready to drop upon me; that, when I waked, I cried to dream again.

I stalk about her door, like a strange soul upon the Stygian banks staying for waftage.