We are such stuff as dreams are made on, and our little life is rounded with a sleep.
O wonder! How many goodly creatures are there here! How beauteous mankind is! O brave new world That has such people in’t.
Look, he’s winding up the watch of his wit; by and by it will strike.
Hell is empty and all the devils are here.
You taught me language; and my profit on’t is, I know how to curse.
What’s past is prologue.
Thought is free.
Misery acquaints a man with strange bedfellows.
Me, poor man, my library was dukedom large enough.
