Macduff: What Three Things Does Drink Especially

Antonio: Will You Stay No Longer? Nor Will You Not That I Go With You? Sebastian: By Your Patience, No. My Stars Shine Darkly Over Me; The Malignancy Of My Fate Might, Perhaps, Distemper Yours; Therefore I Shall Crave Of You Your Leave That I May Bear My Evils Alone. It Were A Bad Recompense For Your Love To Lay Any Of Them On You.

More Matter With Less Art.

This Blessed Plot, This Earth, This Realm, This England.

The Tongues Of Mocking Wenches Are As Keen As Is The Razor's Edge Invisible.

And Oft, My Jealousy Shapes Faults That Are Not.