You're in love? Out Out of love? I love someone. She doesn't love me.

He is winding the watch of his wit; by and by it will strike.

QUINCE Francis Flute, the bellows-mender. FLUTE Here, Peter Quince. QUINCE Flute, you must take Thisby on you. FLUTE What is Thisby? a wandering knight? QUINCE It is the lady that Pyramus must love. FLUTE Nay, faith, let me not play a woman; I have a beard coming.

Yet do I fear thy nature; It is too full o' the milk of human kindness.

Though she be but little, she is fierce!

Why, who cries out on pride that can therein tax any private party? Doth it not flow as hugely as the sea till the weary very means do ebb?

Thou know'st 'tis common; all that lives must die, Passing through nature to eternity.