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)

Adieu! I have too grieved a heart to take a tedious leave.

I were better to be eaten to death with a rust than to be scoured to nothing with perpetual motion.

To loathe the taste of sweetness, whereof little more than a little is by much too much.

Pain pays the income of each precious thing.

Women are not In their best fortunes strong, but want will perjure the ne'er-touched vestal.

Heat not a furnace for your foe so hot that it do singe yourself.