To be, or not to be
My kingdom for a horse
Get thee to a nunnery
There are more things in heaven and earth
Brave new world
The dogs of war
Let's kill all the lawyers
To thine ownself be true
Once more unto the breach
Good night sweet prince
I will wear my heart upon my sleeve
When beggars die, there are no comets seen
Lord, what fools these mortals be
Uneasy lies the head that wears a crown
Sweets to the sweet
What's past is prologue
It was greek to me
Motley fool
Et tu, Brute
Sound and fury
Friends, romans, countrymen
Something wicked this way comes
To sleep: perchance to dream
Green-eyed monster
This was the noblest Roman of them all
Oft expectation fails and most oft there Where most it promises
Eye of newt and toe of frog
Frailty, thy name is woman
What light through yonder window breaks
That this too too solid flesh would melt
When we have shuffled off this mortal coil
Trippingly on the tongue
That I were a glove upon that hand
Hoist with his own petard
Dog will have his day
Think you I am no stronger than my sex
Cowards die many times before their deaths
How poor are they that have not patience 
Quality of mercy 
My words fly up, my thoughts remain below
Bell, book, and candle
Something is rotten in the state of Denmark
Beware the ides of March
A stage where every man must play a part
Though this be madness, yet there is method in 't
Is this a dagger which I see before me
Now go we in content To liberty and not to banishment
Band of brothers
Alas, poor Yorick! I knew him
The world's mine oyster
Nothing will come of nothing
That man that hath a tongue
All the world's a stage 
The course of true love never did run smooth
Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind
Let every eye negotiate for itself
Brevity is the soul of wit
What the dickens
The evil that men do lives after them
Salad days
Sleep that knits up the ravell'd sleeve of care
Who steals my purse steals trash
Kiss me, Kate
The play 's the thing
I am constant as the northern star
The man that hath no music in himself 
We are such stuff As dreams are made on
This was the most unkindest cut of all
Journeys end in lovers meeting
Yond Cassius has a lean and hungry look
My only love sprung from my only hate
I am fortune's fool
Loved not wisely but too well
O coward conscience, how dost thou afflict me
When shall we three meet again
A plague o' both your houses
Out, damned spot
To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow
Our remedies oft in ourselves do lie
Not that I loved Caesar less 
Winter of our discontent
Parting is such sweet sorrow
O Romeo, Romeo! wherefore art thou Romeo
The lady protests too much, methinks
What a piece of work is a man
The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars
All that glitters is not gold
What's in a name
Thus with a kiss I die
Slings and arrows of outrageous fortune
Neither a borrower nor a lender be
This blessed plot, this earth, this realm, this england