I understand a fury in your words
But not your words.

Rude am I in my speech, And little blessed with the soft phrase of peace.

Excellent wretch! Perdition catch my soul But I do love thee! and when I love thee not, Chaos is come again.

I hate ingratitude more in a man
than lying, vainness, babbling, drunkenness,
or any taint of vice whose strong corruption
inhabits our frail blood".

So fair and foul a day I have not seen.

Infected minds to their deaf pillows will discharge their secrets.