To be or not to be: that is the question.

Though this be madness, yet there is method in ’t.

All the world’s a stage, and all the men and women merely players.

Some are born great, some achieve greatness, and some have greatness thrust upon ’em.

If music be the food of love, play on.

Brevity is the soul of wit.

What’s done is done.

The lady doth protest too much, methinks.

Cowards die many times before their deaths; The valiant never taste of death but once.

Now is the winter of our discontent.