CLEOPATRA: If it be love indeed, tell me how much. ANTONY: There's beggary in the love that can be reckoned. CLEOPATRA: I'll set a bourne how far to be belov'd. ANTONY: Then must thou needs find out new heaven, new earth.

To persist in doing wrong extenuates not the wrong, but makes it much more heavy.

Take you me for a sponge?

So musical a discord, such sweet thunder.

I am a feather for each wind that blows

A very ancient and fish-like smell.

The hand that hath made you fair hath made you good.