O, beware, my lord, of jealousy; It is the green-ey'd monster, which doth mock The meat it feeds on.

I told you, sir, they were red-hot with drinking; so full of valor that they smote the air, for breathing in their faces, beat the ground for kissing of their feet.

Faith, there hath been many great men that have flattered the people who ne'er loved them.

Do you bite your thumb at us, sir?

I have had a most rare vision. I have had a dream, past the wit of man to say what dream it was.

The violence of either grief or joy, their own enactures with themselves destroy.

Take all the swift advantage of the hours.