All that glisters is not gold.
All the world's a stage; and all the men and women merely players.
Golden lads and girls all must; as chimney-sweepers, come to dust.
Misery acquaints a man with strange bedfellows.
Some are born great, some achieve greatness, and some have greatness thrust upon 'em.
There are more things in heaven and earth...than are dreamt of in your philosophy.
There is nothing either good or bad, but thinking makes it so.
Time's glory is to calm contending kings; to unmask falsehood, and bring truth to light.
We are such stuff; as dreams are made on, and our little life; is rounded with a sleep.
What's in a name? That which we call a rose; by any other name would smell as sweet.
