One good deed dying tongueless Slaughters a thousand waiting upon that. Our praises are our wages.

The Brightness of her cheek would shame those stars as daylight doth a lamp; her eyes in heaven would through the airy region stream so bright that birds would sing, and think it were not night.

A man can die but once.

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.

Mine eyes smell onions: I shall weep anon.

I cannot be a man with wishing, therefore I will die a woman with grieving.

Love`s reason`s without reason