How beauteous mankind is! O brave new world, that has such people in it!
To grunt and sweat under a weary life, But that the dread of something after death, The undiscover'd country from whose bourn No traveller returns, puzzles the will And makes us rather bear those ills we have Than fly to others that we know not of?
If ever you disturb our streets again, 98 Your lives shall pay the forfeit of the peace.
Stiffen the sinews, summon up the blood.
Ay, to the proof, as mountains are for winds, that shakes not, though they blow perpetually.
There have been many great men that have flattered the people who ne'er loved them.