“And by that destiny to perform an act Whereof what's past is prologue, what to come In yours and my discharge.”

“What's past is prologue.”

“Is this a prologue or a posy of a ring?Ophelia: Tis brief, my lordHamlet: As woman's love.”

“What, with my tongue in your tail? nay, come again,Good Kate; I am a gentleman.”

“Discharge my followers; let them hence away,From Richard's night to Bolingbrooke's fair day.”

“What if this cursed hand were thicker than itself with brother's blood, is there not rain enough in the sweet heavens to wash it white as snow? Whereto serves mercy but to confront the visage of offense? And what's in prayer but this twofold force, to be forestalled ere we come to fall, or pardoned being down? Then I'll look up. My fault is past. But, O, what form of prayer can serve my tern? 'Forgive me my foul murder'?”

“Therefore another prologue must tell he is not a lion”