Hamlet

Mad as the sea and wind when both contend which is the mightier

A knavish speech sleeps in a foolish ear

Diseases desperate grown by desperate appliance are relived or not at all

How all occasions do inform against me and spur my dull revenge

When sorrows come, they come not single spies, but in battalions

Revenge should have no bounds

My words fly up, my thoughts remain below; words without thoughts never to heaven go

For there is nothing either good or bad but thinking makes it so. To me, it is a prison

Doubt thou the stars are fire, doubt that the sun doth move, doubt truth to be a liar, but never doubt I love

If thou didst ever hold me in thy heart, absent thee from felicity awhile and in this harsh world draw thy breath in pain to tell my story

Now cracks a noble heart. Goodnight, sweet prince