Gratiano speaks an infinite deal of nothing, more than any man in all Venice. His reasons are as two grains of wheat hid in two bushels of chaff: you shall seek all day ere you find them, and when you have them, they are not worth the search.
I am sir Oracle, and when I ope my lips, let no dog bark.
My mistress' eyes are nothing like the sun
Then happy I that love and am beloved, where I may not remove nor be removed.
Tis in my memory lock'd, And you yourself shall keep the key of it.
Men at sometime are the masters of their fate.