To thine own self be true, and it must follow, as the night the day, thou canst not then be false to any man.
Love all, trust a few, do wrong to none.
What's in a name? That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet.
We are such stuff as dreams are made on, and our little life is rounded with a sleep.
We know what we are, but know not what we may be.
Better three hours too soon than a minute too late.
Our doubts are traitors, and make us lose the good we oft might win, by fearing to attempt.
Something is rotten in the state of Denmark.
Wisely, and slow. They stumble that run fast.