What's his offense? Groping for trout in a peculiar river.

Tis in ourselves that we are thus or thus. Our bodies are our gardens to the which our wills are gardeners.

Rumour doth double, like the voice and echo, The numbers of the feared.

Trust not your daughter's minds By what you see them act.

Men of few words are the best men." (3.2.41)

Will all great Neptune's ocean wash this blood clean from my hand? No, this my hand will rather the multitudinous seas incarnadine, making the green one red.

Indeed, sir, he that sleeps feels not the toothache; but a man that were to sleep your sleep, and a hangman to help him to bed, I think he would change places with his officer; for look you, sir, you know not which way you shall go.