A knavish speech sleeps in a fool's ear.

Tis given out that, sleeping in my orchard,A serpent stung me; so the whole ear of DenmarkIs by a forged process of my deathRankly abused: but know, thou noble youth,The serpent that did sting thy father's lifeNow wears his crown.

Age cannot wither her nor custom stale Her infinite variety.

There's little of the melancholy element in her, my lord: she is never sad but when she sleeps; and not ever sad then; for I have heard my daughter say, she hath often dreamt of unhappiness, and waked herself with laughing.

Smooth runs the water where the brook is deep.

Fishes live in the sea, as men do a-land; the great ones eat up the little ones.