Piece out our imperfections with your thoughts.

Love, which teacheth me that thou and I am one

This rudeness is a sauce to his good wit, Which gives men stomach to digest his words With better appetite.

GLOUCESTER: I do not know that Englishman alive With whom my soul is any jot at odds, More than the infant that is born to-night: I thank my God for my humility.

...too much sadness hath congealed your blood,And melancholy is the nurse of frenzy.

I had rather live with cheese and garlic in a windmill.

The fittest time to corrupt a man's wife is when she's fallen out with her husband.