Alas, sir, how fell you besides your five wits?" Malvolio: "Fool, there was never a man so notoriously abused. I am as well in my wits, fool, as thou art." Feste: "But as well? Then you are mad indeed, if you be no better in you wits than a fool.

You wear out a good wholesome forenoon in hearing a cause between an orange wife and a fosset-seller.

The arms are fair, When the intent of bearing them is just.

Music, moody food Of us that trade in love.

O, beware, my lord, of jealousy; It is the green-ey'd monster, which doth mock The meat it feeds on.

Sometimes when we are labeled, when we are branded our brand becomes our calling.

You may my Glories and my State depose, But not my Griefes; still am I King of those.