Why should you think that I should woo in scorn? Scorn and derision never come in tears: Look, when I vow, I weep; and vows so born, In their nativity all truth appears. How can these things in me seem scorn to you, Bearing the badge of faith, to prove them true?

Thou knowest, winter tames man, woman, and beast.

You shall more command with years than with your weapons.

Discharge my followers; let them hence away, From Richard's night to Bolingbrooke's fair day.

Benvolio: What sadness lengthens Romeo's hours? Romeo: Not having that, which, having, makes them short.

If chance will have me king, why, chance may crown me.

Full fathom five thy father lies