Unless hours were cups of sack, and minutes capons, and clocks the tongues of bawds, and dials the signs of leaping-houses, and the blessed sun himself a fair hot wench in flame-colored taffeta, I see no reason why thou shouldst be so superfluous to demand the time of the day.

A young man married is a man that's marred.

Then happy I that love and am beloved, where I may not remove nor be removed.

I scorn you, scurvy companion.

If it will feed nothing else, it will feed my revenge.

If there be devils, would I were a devil, To live and burn in everlasting fire, So I might have your company in hell, But to torment you with my bitter tongue!

You taught me language, and my profit on't / Is, I know how to curse