For my own part, I shall be glad to learn of noble men.

Wherefore was I to this keen mockery born? When at your hands did I deserve this scorn? Is't not enough, is't not enough, young man, That I did never, no, nor never can, Deserve a sweet look from Demetrius' eye, But you must flout my insufficiency?

I am ill at these numbers.

If you can look into the seeds of time, and say which grain will grow and which will not, speak then unto me.

Use every man after his desert, and who should scape whipping?

Thou shalt be both the plaintiff and the judge of thine own cause.

Why, all delights are vain; but that most vain, Which, with pain purchas'd, doth inherit pain.