When We Mean To Build, We First

Hamlet: Lady, Shall I Lie In Your Lap? Ophelia: No, My Lord. Hamlet: Did You Think I Meant Country Matters? Ophelia: I Think Nothing, My Lord. Hamlet: That's A Fair Thought To Lie Between Maids' Legs. Ophelia: What Is, My Lord? Hamlet: Nothing.

Is This A Vision? Is This A Dream? Do I Sleep?

There's Not The Smallest Orb Which Thou Behold'st But In His Motion Like An Angel Sings.

He Is As Full Of Valor As Of Kindness. Princely In Both.

But As The Unthought-on Accident Is Guilty To What We Wildly Do, So We Profess Ourselves To Be The Slaves Of Chance, And Flies Of Every Wind That Blows.