Now is the winter of our discontent
Double, Double toil and trouble; Fire burn and cauldron bubble.
O Romeo, Romeo! wherefore art thou Romeo?
There is nothing either good or bad, but thinking makes it so
To be, or not to be: that is the question
Off with his head!
I like this place and willingly could waste my time in it
Can one desire too much of a good thing?
Out, out, brief candle!
This above all; to thine own self be true