The hand of little employment hath the daintier sense.

For I have sworn thee fair, and thought thee bright, who art as black as hell, as dark as night.

My affection hath an unknown bottom, like the Bay of Portugal.

What to ourselves in passion we propose, The passion ending, doth the purpose lose.

I know a bank where the wild thyme blows, Where oxlips and the nodding violet grows, Quite over-canopied with luscious woodbine, With sweet musk-roses and with eglantine.

All offences come from the heart.

Don Pedro - (...)'In time the savage bull doth bear the yoke.' Benedick - The savage bull may, but if ever the sensible Benedick bear it, pluck off the bull's horns and set them in my forehead, and let me be vildly painted; and in such great letters as they writes, 'Here is good horse for hire', let them signify under my sign, 'Here you may see Benedick the married man.