Something is rotten in the state of Denmark.
This above all; to thine own self be true.
Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune, Or to take arms against a sea of troubles, And by opposing end them?
To take arms against a sea of troubles.
To thine own self be true, and it must follow, as the night the day, thou canst not then be false to any man.
There are more things in Heaven and Earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy.
And flights of angels sing thee to thy rest!
O God, O God, how weary, stale, flat, and unprofitable seem to me all the uses of this world!
For in that sleep of death what dreams may come.
There's a divinity that shapes our ends, Rough-hew them how we will.
I am but mad north-north-west. When the wind is southerly, I know a hawk from a handsaw.
Neither a borrower nor a lender be, for loan oft loses both itself and friend, and borrowing dulls the edge of husbandry.
Thrift, thrift, Horatio! The funeral bak'd meats did coldly furnish forth the marriage tables.
Doubt thou the stars are fire; Doubt that the sun doth move; Doubt truth to be a liar; But never doubt I love.
When sorrows come, they come not single spies, but in battalions.
Rich gifts wax poor when givers prove unkind.
Tis now the very witching time of night, when churchyards yawn and hell itself breathes out Contagion to this world.
But to my mind, though I am native here, And to the manner born, it is a custom, More honored in the breach than the observance.
Why, what should be the fear? I do not set my life at a pin's fee.
I must be cruel only to be kind; Thus bad begins, and worse remains behind.
or simply: