Olivia: What's a drunken man like, fool? Feste: Like a drowned man, a fool, and a madman: one draught above heat makes him a fool; the second mads him; and a third drowns him.

Bid me run, and I will strive with things impossible.

And it is very much lamented,... That you have no such mirrors as will turn Your hidden worthiness into your eye That you might see your shadow.

To fear the worst oft cures the worst.

Be merry; you have cause, so have we all, of joy; for our escape is much beyond our loss . . . . then wisely weigh our sorrow with our comfort.

Look to her, Moor, if thou has eyes to see. She has deceived her father, and may thee.

She's beautiful, and therefore to be wooed; She is a woman, therefore to be won.