How weary, stale,flat and unprofitable seem to me all the uses of this world!
Where love is great, the littlest doubts are fear; where little fears grow great, great love grows there.
Frailty, the name is woman!
I could be bounded in a nutshell and count myself a king of infinite space.
More matter with less art.
Therefore, since brevity is the soul of wit, And tediousness the limbs and outward flourishes.
There is nothing either good or bad, but thinking makes it so.