Jareth: Sarah, beware. I have been generous up ‘til now. I can be cruel.
Sarah: Generous? What have you done that’s generous?
Jareth: Everything! Everything that you wanted I have done. You asked that the child be taken. I took him. You cowered before me, I was frightening. I have reordered time. I have turned the world upside down, and I have done it all for you! I am exhausted from living up to your expectations. Isn’t that generous?

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 I ask for so little. Just fear me, love me, do as I say and I will be your slave. 

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Guildenstern: On Fortune's cap we are not the button.
Hamlet: Nor the soles of her shoes?
Rosencrantz: Neither, my lord.
Hamlet:Then you live about her waist, or in the middle of her favors?
Guildenstern: Faith, her privates we.
Hamlet: In the secret parts of Fortune?  Oh, most true.  She is a strumpet.
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Mad call I it, for, to define true madness,
What is 't but to be nothing else but mad?
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“This above all, to thine own self be true,
And it must follow, as the night the day,
Thou canst not then be false to any man."
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Silence is so accurate.
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"The angels are not more pure than the heart of a young man who loves with fervor," [says Madame Dudevant]. The hyperbole is scarcely less than true. It would be truth itself, were it averred of the love of him who is at the same time young and a poet. The boyish poet-love is indisputably that one of the human sentiments which most nearly realizes our dreams of the chastened voluptuousness of heaven."

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In the name of all things holy, please tell me why God felt the need to create a Hell. It just seems so redundant.
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