A woman would run through fire and water for such a kind heart.
Action is eloquence.
All lovers swear more performance than they are able, and yet reserve an ability that they never perform; vowing more than the perfection of ten, and discharging less than the tenth part of one.
With mirth and laughter let old wrinkles come.
Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player, that struts and frets his hour upon the stage and then is heard no more; it is a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing.
Farewell! God knows when we shall meet again.
But soft! What light through yonder window breaks? It is the east and Juliet is the sun.