So Fair And Foul A Day I

Good Hamlet, Cast Thy Nighted Colour Off ... Do Not For Ever With Thy Vailed Lids Seek For Thy Noble Father In The Dust.

The Sense Of Death Is Most In Apprehension.

O, That Our Fathers Would Applause Our Loves, To Seal Our Happiness With Hteir Consents!

I Have Set My Life Upon A Cast, And I Will Stand The Hazard Of The Die.

His Worst Fault Is, He's Given To Prayer; He Is Something Peevish That Way.