Ill met by moonlight, proud Titania

The breaking of so great a thing should make A greater crack: the round world Should have shook lions into civil streets, And citizens to their dens.

Let's go hand in hand, not one before another.

. . . it is impossible you should take true root but by the fair weather that you make yourself it is needful that you frame the season of your own harvest.

Why, thou knowest I am as valiant as Hercules, but beware instinct. The lion will not touch the true prince. Instinct is a great matter. I was a coward on instinct.

See how she leans her cheek upon her hand. O, that I were a glove upon that hand That I might touch that cheek!

You dull ass will not mend his pace with beating.