acts 1 and 2

"Give every man thy ear, but few thy voice."

"O day and night, but this is wondrous strange!" "And therefore as a stranger give it welcome. There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy."

"The time is out of joint. O cursed spite, that ever I was born to set it right."

"Though this be madness, yet there is method in it."

"There is nothing either good or bad but thinking makes it so."

"I have of late—but wherefore I know not—lost all my mirth, forgone all custom of exercises, and indeed it goes so heavily with my disposition that this goodly frame, the earth, seems to me a sterile promontory; this most excellent canopy, the air—look you, this brave o'erhanging firmament, this majestical roof fretted with golden fire—why, it appears no other thing to me than a foul and pestilent congregation of vapors. What a piece of work is a man! How noble in reason, how infinite in faculty! In form and moving how express and admirable! In action how like an angel, in apprehension how like a god! The beauty of the world. The paragon of animals. And yet, to me, what is this quintessence of dust?

"I am but mad north-north-west. When the wind is southerly, I know a hawk from a handsaw."

"Is it not monstrous that this player here, but in a fiction, in a dream of passion, could force his soul to his own conceit that from her working all his visage wanned, tears in his eyes, distraction in his aspect, a broken voice, and his whole function suiting with forms to his conceit? And all for nothing!"

-Hamlet: Shakespeare