I wish I knew all those years ago that simply joining this board and proclaiming myself to be rational would magically transform my uninformed opinions into science; it would have saved me a lot of time and effort.
Hamlet's father: Hello, Hamlet.
Hamlet: Dad? How did you get in here?
Hamlet's father: I'm a ghost, you idiot.
Macbeth: Is there going to be enough food to go around at this evening's banquet?
Lady Macbeth: It's going to be a bit of a stretch, given the way Malcolm stuffs his face. Good thing you killed Banquo.
Macbeth: Huh? What are you doing here?
Banquo: I'm a ghost, you idiot. I've come to make you feel guilty.
Macbeth: You're a ghost?
Banquo: That's what I said.
Macbeth: No, I mean, you can't eat or anything, can you?
Banquo: Well no, actually...
Macbeth: Panic over, wife!
A piazza in Florence, the 13th century. Francesco is surprised to see his half-brother Dante strutting his way past a market stall.
Francesco: Dante! What are you doing here? I thought you were at home getting on with your writing.
Dante: Nah, I'm suffering from writer's block. I thought I'd get some fresh air, then see if I could pull some birds.
Francesco: Pull some birds? That's not very PR, is it?
Francesco: Politically Rectus. It's Latin for PC.
Dante: Save it for when I'm not on a crumpet hunt.
Francesco: Really, Dante! Hey, you know, the best solution to writer's block is simply to...
[Enter Beatrice, out of earshot.]
Dante: [Interrupting] Hey cop a load of that! I've fancied her since I was like 9 years old!
Francesco: Forget it, Dante. That's Beatrice Portinari. She's way out of your league. Besides, I happen to know that she doesn't like you.
Dante: Really? Is that what you think? Because, do you know what I'm hearing? [Silly voice] "Oh Dante please don't ask Beatrice out because I like her." Victory goes to the bold, brother.
Francesco: Suit yourself. Make a fool of yourself if you want to.
Dante: No honey can resist the Alighieri charm. [Approaches Beatrice] Hi, er, hello there Beatrice, my name is, er, Dante, and I was won-won-wondering if you'd, if you don't mind me asking, like to go out with...
Beatrice: Go to hell.
Francesco: What did I tell you? Not a very smart move, was it?
Dante: On the contrary, I'm over my writer's block. She's given me an idea for a poem.
Dante: Did you get around to reading my Divine Comedy?
Francesco: Yes. I never laughed once.