Hamlet. Act ii. Sc. 2.
Beggar that I am, I am even poor in thanks.
Hamlet. Act ii. Sc. 2.
This goodly frame, the earth, seems to me a sterile promontory; this most excellent canopy, the air, look you, this brave o'erhanging firmament, this majestical roof fretted with golden fire, why, it appears no other thing to me than a foul and pestilent congregation of vapours. What a piece of work is a man! how noble in reason! how infinite in faculty! in form and moving how express and admirable! in action how like an angel! in apprehension how like a god!
Hamlet. Act ii. Sc. 2.
Man delights not me: no, nor woman neither.
Hamlet. Act ii. Sc. 2.
There is something in this more than natural, if philosophy could find it out.
Hamlet. Act ii. Sc. 2.
I know a hawk from a handsaw.