They stumble that run fast.
Love cools, friendship falls off, brothers divide: in cities, mutinies; in countries, discord; in palaces, treason; and the bond cracked between son and father.
To beguile the time, look like the time. Bear welcome in your eye, your hand, your tongue.
Out damned spot out I say.
They met so near with their lips that their breaths embraced together.
My determinate voyage is mere extravagancy.