He that sleeps feels not the tooth-ache
Speak low, if you speak love.
Most subject is the fattest soil to weeds.
Make the upcoming hour overflow with joy, and let pleasure drown the brim.
Alas, sir, how fell you besides your five wits?" Malvolio: "Fool, there was never a man so notoriously abused. I am as well in my wits, fool, as thou art." Feste: "But as well? Then you are mad indeed, if you be no better in you wits than a fool.
By Heaven, my soul is purg'd from grudging hate; And with my hand I seal my true heart's love