ROMEO There is thy gold, worse poison to men's souls, Doing more murders in this loathsome world, Than these poor compounds that thou mayst not sell. I sell thee poison; thou hast sold me none. Farewell: buy food, and get thyself in flesh. Come, cordial and not poison, go with me To Juliet's grave; for there must I use thee.

Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon, Who is already sick and pale with grief That thou, her maid, art far more fair than she. . . .

Life... is a paradise to what we know of death.

O God, that men should put an enemy in their mouths to steal away their brains!" - Cassio (Act II, Scene iii)

I am bewitched with the rogue's company. If the rascal have not given me medicines to make me love him, I'll be hanged.

Not stepping over the bounds of modesty.

Foul whisperings are abroad