O, teach me how you look, and with what art You sway the motion of Demetrius' heart."-Helena

Conscience is a blushing, shamefaced spirit than mutinies in a man's bosom; it fills one full of obstacles.

Thine eyes I love, and they as pitying me, Knowing thy heart torment me with disdain, Have put on black, and loving mourners be, Looking with pretty ruth upon my pain.

O' thinkest thou we shall ever meet again? I doubt it not; and all these woes shall serve For sweet discourses in our times to come.

A very scurvy fellow.

How much more doth beauty beauteous seem by that sweet ornament which truth doth give!

Rebellion in this land shall lose his sway, meeting the check of such another day.