They Say Miracles Are Past.

It Is A Tale Told By An Idiot, Full Of Sound And Fury; Signifying Nothing.

My Meaning In Saying He Is A Good Man, Is To Have You Understand Me That He Is Sufficient.

Now The Melancholy God Protect Thee, And The Tailor Make Thy Garments Of Changeable Taffeta, For Thy Mind Is Opal.

Bring Me A Constant Woman To Her Husband, One That Ne'er Dream'd A Joy Beyond His Pleasure, And To That Woman, When She Has Done Most, Yet Will I Add An Honour-a Great Patience.

The Devil Knew What He Did When He Made Men Politic; He Crossed Himself By It.