“To be in love is not the same as loving. You can be in love with a woman and still hate her.”

“Only through suffering can we find ourselves.”

“Who doesn't desire his fathers death?”

“Don’t be overwise; fling yourself straight into life, without deliberation; don’t be afraid - the flood will bear you to the bank and set you safe on your feet again.”

“For example, I'm terribly proud. I'm as mistrustful and as sensitive as a hunchback or a dwarf; but, in truth, I've experienced some moments when if someone had slapped my face, I might even have been grateful for it. I'm being serious. I probably would have been able to derive a peculiar sort of pleasure from it-the pleasure of despair, naturally, but the most intense pleasures occur in despair, especially when you're very acutely aware of the hopelessness of your own predicament.”

“Were all the letters sun, I could not see one.”

“O most delicate fiend!Who is't can read a woman? Is there more?”

“Hear the meaning within the word.”

“To be, or not to be, that is the question: Whether 'tis Nobler in the mind to suffer The Slings and Arrows of outrageous Fortune, Or to take Arms against a Sea of troubles, And by opposing end them: to die, to sleep No more; and by a sleep, to say we end The Heart-ache, and the thousand Natural shocks That Flesh is heir to? 'Tis a consummation Devoutly to be wished. To die to sleep, To sleep, perchance to Dream; Aye, there's the rub.”

“What is a man, if his chief good and market of his time be but to sleep and feed? a beast, no more.”

“I despised my arrival on this earth and I despise my departure; it is a tragedy.”

“Ay, but to die, and go we know not where.”

“O most delicate fiend!Who is't can read a woman? Is there more?”

“In nature's infinite book of secrecyA little I can read.”

“If ignorance is bliss, why aren't more people happy?”

“What can I hope when all is right?”

“Why, in a country of free speech, are there phone bills?”

“What's the news?None, my lord, but that the world's grown honest,Then is doomsday near.”

“Evermore in the world is this marvelous balance of beauty and disgust, magnificence and rats.”

“I hold the world but as the world, Gratiano; A stage where every man must play a part, And mine is a sad one.”