"What have you done, my lord, with the dead body?"
"It with dust, whereto 'tis kin."
"Where is Polonius"
"In heaven, send thither to see. If your messenger find him not there, seek him i' th' other place yourself. But if, indeed, you find him not within this month, you shall nose him as you go up the stairs into the lobby."
"Where is my father?"
"Go, Captain, from me greet the Danish king."
"Pretty Ophelia, How long hath she been thus?"
"I hope all will be well, we must be patient, but I cannot choose but weep to think they would lay him i' th' cold ground. My brother shall know of it. And so I thank you for your good counsel."
"O heat, dry up my brains! Tears seven times salt Burn out the scene and virtue of mine eye!"