A miracle. Here's our own hands against our hearts. Come, I will have thee, but by this light I take thee for pity. Beatrice: I would not deny you, but by this good day, I yield upon great persuasion, and partly to save your life, for I was told you were in a consumption. Benedick: Peace. I will stop your mouth.

Thou seest we are not all alone unhappy: This wide and universal theatre Presents more woeful pageants than the scene Wherein we play in.

Tears harden lust, though marble wear with raining.

For which of my bad parts didst thou first fall in love with me?

Religious canons, civil laws, are cruel; then what should war be?

Wise men ne'er sit and wail their woes, but presently prevent the ways to wail.

Words without thoughts never to heaven go.