Thy words, I grant are bigger, for I wear not, my dagger in my mouth.

The whirligig of time brings in his revenges.

I will be treble-sinewed, hearted, breathed, And fight maliciously; for when mine hours Were nice and lucky, men did ransom lives Of me for jests; but now I'll set my teeth And send to darkness all that stop me.

And do as adversaries do in law, strive mightily, but eat and drink as friends.

Virtue that transgresses is but patched with sin; and sin that amends is but patched with virtue.

I will kill thee a hundred and fifty ways.

When you do dance, I wish you a wave o' the sea, that you might ever do nothing but that.