Sound trumpets! Let our bloody colours wave! And either victory, or else a grave.

I will do anything, Nerissa, ere I'll be married to a sponge.

Now, neighbor confines, purge you of your scum! Have you a ruffian that will swear, drink, dance, revel the night, rob, murder, and commit the oldest sins the newest kind of ways?

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

Her passions are made of nothing but the finest part of pure love

A table-full of welcome!

Thus is his cheek the map of days outworn.