Hamlet, príncipe de Dinamarca

It puzzles the will.

This is the very ecstasy of love, whose violent property ordoes itself and leads the will to desperate undertakings.

A knavish speech sleeps in a fool's ear.

More matter with less art.

therein lies the rub

We are oft to blame in this, -
'tis too much proved, - that with devotion's visage,
and pios action we do sugar o'er
the devil himself.

I must, like a whore, unpack my heart with words.

A little more than kin, a little less than kind.

Not a whit, we defy augury: there's a special
providence in the fall of a sparrow. If it be now,
'tis not to come; if it be not to come, it will be
now; if it be not now, yet it will come: the
readiness is all.

Tis in my memory lock'd,
And you yourself shall keep the key of it.