Love reasons without reason.

There's an old saying that applies to me: you can't lose a game if you don't play the game. (Act 1, scene 4)

Out, you tallow-face! You baggage!

This liberty is all that I request.

Why are our bodies soft, and weak, and smooth But that our soft conditions and our hearts Should well agree with our external parts?

Who knows himself a braggart, Let him fear this; for it will come to pass That every braggart will be found an ass.

Take heed, dear heart, of this large privilege; The hardest knife ill-used doth lose his edge.