| Quote | Character | Act/Scene |
| Lay her i' the earth: And from her fair and unpolluted flesh May violets spring! | |
| Frailty, thy name is woman! | |
| My lord, you must tell us where the body is, and go with us to the king. | |
| Neither a borrower nor a lender be: For loan oft loses both itself and friend. | |
| My words fly up, my thoughts remain below; Words without thoughts never to heaven go. | |
| O, woe is me To have seen what I have seen, see what I see! | |
| That he is mad, 'tis true; 'tis true 'tis pity; And pity 'tis 'tis true | |
| Now cracks a noble heart. Good-night, sweet prince; And flights of angels sing thee to thy rest. | |
| Do not, as some ungracious pastors do, Show me the steep and thorny way to heaven. | |
| The lady doth protest too much, methinks. | |
| | Quote | Character | Act/Scene |
| When sorrows come, they come not single spies, But in battalions. | |
| O horrible, O horrible, most horrible! | |
| More matter with less art. | |
| Something is rotten in the state of Denmark. | |
| Go, bid the soldiers shoot. | |
| There is nothing either good or bad, but thinking makes it so. | |
| Happy in that we are not overhappy; on Fortune's cap we are not the very button. | |
| We are oft to blame in this, — 'Tis too much prov'd, — that with devotion's visage, And pious action, we do sugar o'er The devil himself. | |
| The serpent that did sting thy father's life Now wears his crown. | |
| This is I, Hamlet the Dane! | |
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