O Hamlet, thou has cleft my brain in twain

Exchange forgiveness with me, noble Hamlet.

Perhaps he loves you now, ... / ...his will is not his own, For he himself is subject to his birth

Give every man thine ear, but few thy voice

Something is rotten in the state of Denmark

This time is out of joint. O cursed spite / That ever I was born to set it right!

...for there is nothing either good or bad but thinking makes it so. To me it is a prison.

My crown, mine own ambition, and my queen. / May one be pardoned and retain the offense?

How all occasions do inform against me, / And spur my dull revenge!

"Sweets to the sweet! Farewell. I hoped thou shouldst have been my Hamlet's wife"

Why, as a woodcock to mine own spring, Osric; / I am justly killed with mine own treachery.

And with a look so piteous in purport / As if he had been loosed out of hell / To speak of horrors, —he comes before me.

Never believe it. I am more an antique Roman than a Dane

There's rosemary, that's for remembrance. Pray you, love, / remember. And there is pansies, that's for thoughts.

O, my offense is rank, it smells to heaven; / It hath the primal eldest curse upon 't, / A brother's murder.