William Shakespeare, The Tempest

"She will outstrip all praise and make it halt behind her."

"His forward voice now is to speak well of his friend. His backward voice is to utter foul speeches and to detract."

"At this hour Lie at my mercy all mine enemies."

"Look, he's winding up the watch of his wit; by and by it will strike."

"Your tale, sir, would cure deafness."

"What, all so soon asleep! I wish mine eyes Would, with themselves, shut up my thoughts..."

"Good wombs have borne bad sons."-- (Miranda, I:2)"

"The truth you speak doth lack some gentleness And time to speak it in. You rub the sore When you should bring the plaster."

"I might call him. A thing divine, for nothing natural. I ever saw so noble."

"What's past is prologue."

"This rough magic I here abjure, and, when I have required Some heavenly music, which even now I do,To work mine end upon their senses that This airy charm is for, I'll break my staff,Bury it certain fathoms in the earth,And deeper than did ever plummet sound I'll drown my book."

"Ye elves of hills, brooks, standing lakes and groves,And ye that on the sands with printless foot Do chase the ebbing Neptune and do fly him When he comes back; you demi-puppets that By moonshine do the green sour ringlets make,Whereof the ewe not bites, and you whose pastime Is to make midnight mushrooms, that rejoice To hear the solemn curfew; by whose aid,Weak masters though ye be, I have bedimm’d The noontide sun, call’d forth the mutinous winds,And ‘twixt the green sea and the azured vault Set roaring war: to the dread rattling thunder Have I given fire and rifted Jove’s stout oak With his own bolt; the strong-based promontory Have I made shake and by the spurs pluck’d up The pine and cedar: graves at my command Have waked their sleepers, oped, and let ‘em forth By my so potent art. But this rough magic I here abjure, and, when I have required Some heavenly music, which even now I do,To work mine end upon their senses that This airy charm is for, I’ll break my staff,Bury it certain fathoms in the earth,And deeper than did ever plummet sound I’ll drown my book."

"Let us not burthen our remembrance with A heaviness that's gone."

"Though with their high wrongs I am struck to th' quick,Yet with my nobler reason 'gainst my fury Do I take part."

"O brave new world,That has such people in ’t!-Miranda"

"Thou, my slave,As thou report'st thyself, was then her servant,And for thou wast a spirit too delicate To act her earthy and abhorred commands,Refusing her grand hests, she did confine thee,By help of her more potent ministers And in her most unmitigable rage,Into a cloven pine, within which rift Imprisoned thou didst painfully remain A dozen years; within which space she died And left thee there, where thou didst vent thy groans As fast as mill wheels strike."

"Their manners are more gentle, kind, than of our generation you shall find."

"So. Lie there, my art."

"There's meaning in thy snores."

"Thought is free."