1 My lord, I think I saw him yesternight.
2 I think it was to see my mother's wedding.
3 I do not know, my lord, what I should think.
4 I think their inhibition comes by the means of the late innovation.
5 I do believe you think what now you speak; But what we do determine, oft we break.
6 So think thou wilt no second husband wed, But die thy thoughts when thy first lord is dead.
7 If she find him not, To England send him; or confine him where Your wisdom best shall think.
8 They are about the court, And, as I think, they have already order This night to play before him.
9 It likes us well; And at our more consider'd time we'll read, Answer, and think upon this business.
10 To think, my lord, if you delight not in man, what Lenten entertainment the players shall receive from you.
11 As I do live, my honour'd lord, 'tis true; And we did think it writ down in our duty To let you know of it.'
12 Marry, I'll teach you; think yourself a baby; That you have ta'en these tenders for true pay, Which are not sterling.
13 You must not think That we are made of stuff so flat and dull That we can let our beard be shook with danger, And think it pastime.
14 I think it be no other but e'en so: Well may it sort that this portentous figure Comes armed through our watch so like the King That was and is the question of these wars.
15 We pray you throw to earth This unprevailing woe, and think of us As of a father; for let the world take note You are the most immediate to our throne, And with no less nobility of love Than that which dearest father bears his son Do I impart toward you.
16 Her speech is nothing, Yet the unshaped use of it doth move The hearers to collection; they aim at it, And botch the words up fit to their own thoughts, Which, as her winks, and nods, and gestures yield them, Indeed would make one think there might be thought, Though nothing sure, yet much unhappily.
17 Though yet of Hamlet our dear brother's death The memory be green, and that it us befitted To bear our hearts in grief, and our whole kingdom To be contracted in one brow of woe; Yet so far hath discretion fought with nature That we with wisest sorrow think on him, Together with remembrance of ourselves.
Your search result may include more than 17 sentences. If you upgrade to a VIP account, you will see up to 500 sentences for one search.