And Thus I Clothe My Naked Villainy

Absence Doth Sharpen Love, Presence Strengthens It; The One Brings Fuel, The Other Blows It Till It Burns Clear.

The Play's The Thing, Wherein I'll Catch The Conscience Of The King.

Preferment Goes By Letter And Affection, And Not By Old Gradation, Where Each Second Stood Heir To Th's First.

I See You Stand Like Greyhounds In The Slips, Straining Upon The Start. The Game's Afoot; Follow Your Spirit: And Upon This Charge, Cry — God For Harry! England And Saint George!

His Jest Will Savour But Of Shallow Wit, When Thousands Weep, More Than Did Laugh At It.