Who said it? Hamlet

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Can you name the characters who said these lines?

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There's a divinity that shapes our ends, Rough-hew them how we will
To be, or not to be, that is the question
I would have such a fellow whipped for o'erdoing Termagant. It out-Herods Herod
Alas, poor Yorick! I knew him, Horatio, a fellow of infinite jest, of most excellent fancy.
What a piece of work is a man!
Something is rotten in the state of Denmark
A little more than kin, and less than kind
The play's the thing wherein I'll catch the conscience of the King.
Suit the action to the word, the word to the action, with this special observance, that you o'erstep not the modesty of nature
When sorrows come, they come not single spies, but in battalions
Get thee to a nunnery
There is nothing either good or bad but thinking makes it so
That he's mad, 'tis true; 'tis true 'tis pity, and pity 'tis 'tis true
The cess of majesty dies not alone, but like a gulf doth draw what's near it with it
Neither a borrower nor a lender be
For 'tis the sport to have the enginer hoist with his own petard.
More matter, with less art
How all occasions do inform against me and spur my dull revenge!
Murder most foul, as in the best it is...
The lady doth protest too much, methinks
'Tis now the very witching time of night
Words, words, words
'tis brief, my lord/as woman's love (Two People)
'A was a man. Take him for all in all, I shall not look upon his like again
Frailty, thy name is woman!
There's rosemary, that's for remembrance...And there is pansies; that's for thoughts
But to my mind, though I am native here and to the manner born, it is a custom more honored in the breach than the observance
There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy
...the purpose of playing, whose end, both at the first and now, was and is to hold as 'twere the mirror up to nature
What's Hecuba to him, or he to Hecuba, that he should weep for her?
Brevity is the soul of wit
To die, to sleep; to sleep, perchance to dream. Ay, there's the rub
Good night, sweet prince, And flights of angels sing thee to thy rest!
The glass of fashion and the mold of form, th' observed of all observers...
A hit, a very palpable hit.
O, that this too too sullied flesh would melt...
This above all: to thine own self be true
The time is out of joint. O cursed spite that ever I was born to set it right!
Rightly to be great is not to stir without great argument, but greatly to find quarrel in a straw when honor's at the stake
Thus conscience does make cowards of us all
Not a whit, we defy augury. there is special providence in the fall of a sparrow. If it be now, 'tis not to come; if it be not to come, it will be now; if it be not now, yet it wil
Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer the slings and arrows of outrageious fortune, or to take arms against a sea of troubles and by opposing end them
Though this be madness, yet there is method in 't
How weary, stale, flat, and unprofitable seem to me all the uses of this world!
O, my prophetic soul!
...for thou hast been as one, in suffering all, that suffers nothing, a man that Fortune's buffets and rewards hast ta'en with equal thanks
The cat will mew, and dog will have his day

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