O! Let me not be mad, not mad, sweet heaven; keep me in temper; I would not be mad!

Manhood is melted into courtesies, valor into compliment, and men are only turned into tongue, and trim ones, too.

But, soft! what light through yonder window breaks? It is the east, and Juliet is the sun.

Do as the heavens have done, forget your evil; With them forgive yourself.

I am not only witty in myself, but the cause that wit is in other men.

I have very poor and unhappy brains for drinking: I could well wish courtesy would invent some other custom of entertainment.

Though I be but prince of Wales, yet I am the king of courtesy.