Well, If Fortune Be A Woman, She's

O God, O God, How Weary, Stale, Flat, And Unprofitable Seem To Me All The Uses Of This World!

There Are Many Events In The Womb Of Time Which Will Be Delivered.

The Gods Are Deaf To Hot And Peevish Vows. They Are Polluted Off'rings, More Abhorred! Than Spotted Livers In The Sacrifice.

You Have Witchcraft In Your Lips

Not A Whit, We Defy Augury: There's A Special Providence In The Fall Of A Sparrow. If It Be Now, 'tis Not To Come; If It Be Not To Come, It Will Be Now; If It Be Not Now, Yet It Will Come: The Readiness Is All.