My thoughts are whirled like a potter's wheel; I know not where I am nor what I do.
The soul of this man is his clothes.
CLEOPATRA: If it be love indeed, tell me how much. ANTONY: There's beggary in the love that can be reckoned. CLEOPATRA: I'll set a bourne how far to be belov'd. ANTONY: Then must thou needs find out new heaven, new earth.
The best is yet to come.
Proper deformity shows not in the fiend So horrid as in woman.
Come not within the measure of my wrath.