God Shall Be My Hope, My Stay,

I Loved Ophelia. Forty Thousand Brothers Could Not, With All Their Quantity Of Love, Make Up My Sum.

Our Doubts Are Traitors And Make Us Lose The Good We Oft Might Win By Fearing To Attempt.

O, Then I See Queen Mab Hath Been With You. . . . She Is The Fairies’ Midwife, And She Comes In Shape No Bigger Than An Agate Stone On The Forefinger Of An Alderman, Drawn With A Team Of Little Atomi Athwart Men’s Noses As They Lie Asleep.

A Knavish Speech Sleeps In A Fool's Ear.

I Beseech You, Wrest Once The Law To Your Authority: To Do A Great Right, Do A Little Wrong.