Learning is but an adjunct to ourself, And where we are our learning likewise is.

Never; he will not: Age cannot wither her, nor custom stale Her infinite variety: other women cloy The appetites they feed: but she makes hungry Where most she satisfies.

Why, then the world ’s mine oyster, Which I with sword will open.

The rest, is silence.

Alas, sir, how fell you besides your five wits?" Malvolio: "Fool, there was never a man so notoriously abused. I am as well in my wits, fool, as thou art." Feste: "But as well? Then you are mad indeed, if you be no better in you wits than a fool.

This feather stirs; she lives! if it be so, it is a chance which does redeem all sorrows that ever I have felt.

Fear and niceness, the handmaids of all women, or more truly, woman its pretty self.