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All the world 's a stage, and all the men and women merely players.

To be, or not to be, that is the question.

The course of true love never did run smooth.

What's in a name? That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet.

We are such stuff as dreams are made on, and our little life is rounded with a sleep.

The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars, but in ourselves.

Some are born great, some achieve greatness, and some have greatness thrust upon them.

To thine own self be true, and it must follow, as the night the day, thou canst not then be false to any man.

There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy.

Double, double toil and trouble; Fire burn and cauldron bubble.