Passion lends them power, time means to meet, tempering extremities with extremes sweet.

I should think this a gull, but that the white-bearded fellow speaks it; knavery cannot, sure, hide himself in such reverence.

Presume not that I am the thing I was.

Faster than spring-time showers comes thought on thought.

So shalt thou feed on Death, that feeds on men.

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.

The peace of heaven is theirs that lift their swords, in such a just and charitable war.