Ophelia: O, help him, you sweet heavens!, Heavenly powers, restore him!
Hamlet: Get thee to a nunnery. Why wouldst thou be a breeder of sinners? I am myself indifferent honest, but yet I could accuse me of such things
Claudius: Give me some light, away!
Hamlet: What, frighted with false fire?
Claudius: I stand in pause where I shall first begin, And both neglect. What if this cursèd hand Were thicker than itself with brother’s blood? Is there not rain enough in the sweet heavens To wash it white as snow?