Do all men kill the things they do not love ............ The quality of mercy is not strain'd It droppeth as the gentle rain from heaven Upon the place beneath: it is twice blest It blesseth him that gives and him that takes

The time is out of joint : O cursed spite, that ever I was born to set it right!

O that my tongue were in the thunder's mouth! Then with passion would I shake the world.

Though authority be a stubborn bear, yet he is oft let by the nose with gold.

We cannot fight for love, as men may do; we shou'd be woo'd, and were not made to woo

I am asham'd that women are so simple To offer war where they should kneel for peace.

Be wise as thou art cruel, do not press My tongue-tied patience with too much disdain: Lest sorrow lend me words and words express, The manner of my pity-wanting pain.