“Hear the meaning within the word.”

“What is honour? a word. What is in that word honour? what is that honour? air. A trim reckoning! Who hath it? he that died o' Wednesday. Doth he feel it? no. Doth he hear it? no.”

“What do you read, my lord? Hamlet: Words, words, words. Lord Polonius: What is the matter, my lord? Hamlet: Between who? Lord Polonius: I mean, the matter that you read, my lord.”

“But yesterday the word of Caesar mightHave stood against the world; now lies he there.And none so poor to do him reverence.O masters, if I were disposed to stirYour hearts and minds to mutiny and rage,I should do Brutus wrong, and Cassius wrong,Who, you all know, are honourable men:I will not do them wrong; I rather chooseTo wrong the dead, to wrong myself and you,Than I will wrong such honourable men.But here's a parchment with the seal of Caesar;I found it in his closet, 'tis his will:Let but the commons hear this testament--Which, pardon me, I do not mean to read--And they would go and kiss dead Caesar's woundsAnd dip their napkins in his sacred blood,Yea, beg a hair of him for memory,And, dying, mention it within their wills,Bequeathing it as a rich legacyUnto their issue.”

“What, are there masques? Hear you me, Jessica:Lock up my doors; and when you hear the drumAnd the vile squealing of the wry-neck'd fife,Clamber not you up to the casements then,Nor thrust your head into the public streetTo gaze on Christian fools with varnish'd faces,But stop my house's ears, I mean my casements:Let not the sound of shallow foppery enter”

“Timon will to the woods, where he shall findTh' unkindest beast more kinder than mankind.The gods confound - hear me, you good gods all -Th' Athenians both within and out that wall!And grant, as Timon grows, his hate may grow To the whole race of mankind, high and low!Amen.”

“Teach me, dear creature, how to think and speak; Lay open to my earthy-gross conceit, Smother'd in errors, feeble, shallow, weak, The folded meaning of your words' deceit.”