specifically Hamlet
A little more than kin,
and less than kind
Seems madam? Nay, it is
I know not seems
O that this too
too solid flesh would melt
Or that the Everlasting had not fixed
his canon ‘gainst self-slaughter
that was to this Hyperion
to a satyr
frailty, thy
name is woman
but break, my heart, for
I must hold my tongue
the funeral baked meats did coldly
furnish forth the marriage tables
speak, I am
bound to hear
o most
pernicious woman!
to put an
antic disposition on
Denmark’s a
prison
a dream itself is
but a shadow
I am but mad north north west,
when the wind is southerly, I know a hawk from a handsaw
O what a
rogue and peasant slave am I!
why, what an
ass am I!
for murder, though it have no tongue
will speak with most miraculous organ
the plays the thing
wherein I'll catch the conscience of the king.
to take arms against a sea of troubles
and by opposing end them
the undiscovered country
from whose bourn no traveller returns
thus conscience does
make cowards of us all
get thee
to a nunnery
I loved you
not
to hold as twere
the mirror up to nature
do you think
I mean country matters?
lady, shall I
lie in your lap?
do you think I am easier
to be played on than a pipe?
I will speak daggers
to her but use none
I his sole son do this same villain
send to heaven
mother, you have my father
much offended
Almost as bad, good mother,
as kill a king and marry with his brother
have you
eyes?
look here upon this picture, and on this,
the counterfeit presentment of two brothers
in the rank sweat
of an enseamed bed
but heaven hath pleased it so, to punish me
with this, and this with me, that I must be their scourge and minister
I must be cruel
only to be kind
let the bloat king
tempt you again to bed
I essentially am not in madness
but mad in craft
the body is with the king, but
the king is not with the body
my thoughts be bloody or
nothing worth
alas, poor
Yorick! I knew him Horatio
I loved Ophelia;
forty thousand brothers could not with all their quantity of love make up my sum
You do but
dally
the rest is
silence