The gallantry of his grief did put me into a towering passion.

The first thing we do, let's kill all the lawyers.

Words, vows, gifts, tears, and love's full sacrifice, He offers in another's enterprise; But more in Troilus thousand-fold I see Than in the glass of Pandar's praise may be, Yet hold I off.

If ever thou be'st bound in thy scarf and beaten, thou shalt find what it is to be proud of thy bondage.

The dullness of the fool is the whetstone of the wits.

I hold it cowardice To rest mistrustful where a noble heart Hath pawned an open hand in sign of love.

Tell me where is fancy bred, Or in the heart, or in the head?