A young man married is a man that's marred.
I am gone, though I am here. There is no love in you. Nay, I pray you let me go.
Like Niobe, all tears.
Everyone ought to bear patiently the results of his own conduct.
Mercutio: Ask for me tomorrow, and you shall find me a grave man.
Once more into the breach.
Horatio. Now cracks a noble heart. Good night, sweet prince, And flights of angels sing thee to thy rest!
We strut and fret our hour upon the stage and then are no more.
I, sir, am Dromio; command him away. I, sir, am Dromio; pray, let me stay.