Misery
To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow,
Creeps in this petty pace from day to day
To the last syllable of recorded time,
And all our yesterdays have lighted fools
The way to dusty death.
—Macbeth,
Act V, Scene v

To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow,
Creeps in this petty pace from day to day
To the last syllable of recorded time,
And all our yesterdays have lighted fools
The way to dusty death.
—Macbeth,
Act V, Scene v

Blush, Blush, thou lump of foul deformity;
For ’tis thy presence that exhales this blood
From cold and empty veins.
–Richard III,
Act I, Scene ii

All gold and silver rather turn to dirt.
–Cymbeline,
Act III Scene vi

And I, to make thee mad, do mock thee thus.
Stamp, rave, and fret, that I may sing and dance.
-Henry VI Part 3,
Act I, Scene iv

Vengeance is in my heart, death in my hand,
Blood and revenge are hammering in my head.
–Titus Andronicus,
Act II, Scene ii

Things bad begun make strong themselves by ill.
—Macbeth,
Act III, Scene ii

‘Tis the strumpet’s plague
To beguile many and be beguiled by one:
He, when he hears of her, cannot refrain
From the excess of laughter.
—Othello,
Act IV, Scene i