The iron tongue of Midnight hath told twelve lovers, to bed; 'tis almost fairy time. I fear we shall outstep the coming morn as much as we this night over-watch'd.

Hath Romeo slain himself? Say thou but ay, And that bare vowel ay shall poison more Than the death-darting eye of cockatrice. I am not I,if there be such an ay, Or those eyes shut,that make thee answer ay: If he be slain say ay,or if not,no: Brief sounds,determine of my weal or woe.

We may outrun By violent swiftness And lose by over-running.

A dream itself is but a shadow.

Good name in man and woman is the immediate jewel of their souls.

How easy it is for the proper-false in woman's waxen hearts to set their forms!

I would challenge you to a battle of wits, but I see you are unarmed!