The very substance of the ambitious is merely the shadow of a dream.

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

Assure thee, if I do vow a friendship, I'll perform it to the last article." --Othello, Act III, Scene iii

You are not worth another word, else I'd call you knave.

You are an alchemist; make gold of that.

Do not banish reason for inequality; but let your reason serve to make the truth appear where it seems hid, and hide the false seems true.

Ere I could make thee open thy white hand, and clap thyself my love; then didst thou utter, I am your's for ever!