Tis safter to be that which we destroy Than by destruction dwell in doubtful joy.

Petruchio: Come, come, you wasp; i' faith, you are too angry. Katherine: If I be waspish, best beware my sting. Petruchio: My remedy is then, to pluck it out. Katherine: Ay, if the fool could find where it lies. Petruchio: Who knows not where a wasp does wear his sting? In his tail. Katherine: In his tongue. Petruchio: Whose tongue? Katherine: Yours, if you talk of tails: and so farewell. Petruchio: What, with my tongue in your tail? Nay, come again, Good Kate; I am a gentleman.

I like not fair terms and a villain's mind.

But love is blind and lovers cannot see

Some smack of age in you, some relish of the saltness of time.

A lion among ladies is a most dreadful thing.

Hal, if I tell thee a lie, spit in my face, call me horse.