Expectation is the root of all heartache.
The first thing we do, let’s kill all the lawyers.
Give sorrow words; the grief that does not speak knits up the o-er wrought heart and bids it break.
Listen to many, speak to a few.
Do you bite your thumb at us, sir?
Conscience doth make cowards of us all.
In time we hate that which we often fear.
How far that little candle throws his beams! So shines a good deed in a weary world.
Why, man, he doth bestride the narrow world Like a Colossus; and we petty men Walk under his huge legs, and peep about To find ourselves dishonourable graves.
Do you not know I am a woman? when I think, I must speak.
Let me be that I am and seek not to alter me.
My words fly up, my thoughts remain below: Words without thoughts never to heaven go.
Et tu, Brute?
I had rather hear my dog bark at a crow, than a man swear he loves me.
One may smile, and smile, and be a villain.
If love be rough with you, be rough with love. Prick love for pricking and you beat love down.
I am not bound to please thee with my answer.
Do not swear by the moon, for she changes constantly. then your love would also change.
Some are born great, others achieve greatness.
What’s done cannot be undone.