Leave not a rack behind. We are such stuff
As dreams are made on; and our little life
Is rounded with a sleep.
The Tempest. Act iv. Sc. 1.
With foreheads villanous low.
The Tempest. Act iv. Sc. 1.
Deeper than did ever plummet sound
I 'll drown my book.
The Tempest. Act v. Sc. 1.
Where the bee sucks, there suck I;