Love sought is good, but given unsought, is better.

...too much sadness hath congealed your blood,And melancholy is the nurse of frenzy.

Thy head is as full of quarrels as an egg is full of meat, and yet thy head hath been beaten as addle as an egg for quarrelling.

What is honour? a word. What is in that word honour? what is that honour? air. A trim reckoning! Who hath it? he that died o' Wednesday. Doth he feel it? no. Doth he hear it? no.

The nature of bad news affects the teller.

One pain is lessened by another's anguish.

I’ll look to like, if looking liking move; But no more deep will I endart mine eye than your consent gives strength to make it fly.