“I hate the murderer, love him murdered.”

“What do I fear? Myself? There’s none else by.Richard loves Richard; that is, I and I.Is there a murderer here? No. Yes, I am.Then fly! What, from myself? Great reason why:Lest I revenge. What, myself upon myself?Alack, I love myself. Wherefore? For any goodThat I myself have done unto myself?O, no! Alas, I rather hate myselfFor hateful deeds committed by myself.I am a villain. Yet I lie. I am not.Fool, of thyself speak well. Fool, do not flatter:My conscience hath a thousand several tongues,And every tongue brings in a several tale,And every tale condemns me for a villain.Perjury, perjury, in the highest degree;Murder, stern murder, in the direst degree;All several sins, all used in each degree,Throng to the bar, crying all, “Guilty! guilty!”I shall despair. There is no creature loves me,And if I die no soul will pity me.And wherefore should they, since that I myselfFind in myself no pity to myself?”

“If thou didst ever thy dear father love—Revenge his foul and most unnatural murder”

“Bear hence this body and attend our will. Mercy but murders, pardoning those that kill.”

“My conscience hath a thousand several tongues, And every tongue brings in a several tale,And every tale condemns me for a villain.Perjury, perjury, in the high'st degree;Murder, stern murder in the dir'st degree,Throng to the bar, crying all, 'Guilty!, guilty!”

“Though in the trade of war I have slain men,Yet do I hold it very stuff o' the conscienceTo do no contrived murder: I lack iniquitySometimes to do me service: nine or ten timesI had thought to have yerk'd him here under the ribs.”

“Why, I can smile and murder whiles I smile,And cry 'content' to that which grieves my heart,And wet my cheeks with artificial tears,And frame my face for all occasions”