Passion makes the will lord of the reason.

Not all the water in the rough rude sea Can wash the balm from an anointed King.

I am one, sir, that comes to tell you your daughter and the Moor are now making the beast with two backs.(IAGO,ActI,SceneI)

So long as men can breathe, or eyes can see, So long lives this, and this gives life to thee.

She is a woman, therefore to be won.

One half of me is yours, the other half is yours, Mine own, I would say; but if mine, then yours, And so all yours.

For death remembered should be like a mirror, Who tells us life’s but breath, to trust it error.