Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more;
Or close the wall up with our English dead.
Leonato: O Lord, my lord, if they were but a week married, they would talk themselves mad.
Gonzalo: Now would I give a thousand furlongs of sea for an acre of barren ground, long heath, brown furze, any thing. The wills above be done! but I would fain die a dry death.
All that glisters is not gold;
Often have you heard that told;
Many a man his life hath sold
But my outside to behold.
If you repay not on such a day
let the forfeit be an equal pound
of your fair flesh.
To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow,
Creeps in this petty pace from day to day,
To the last syllable of recorded time;
And all our yesterdays have lighted fools
The way to dusty death. Out, out brief candle!
Life’s but a walking shadow; a poor player,
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage,
And then is heard no more: it is a tale
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,
O, from this time forth
My thoughts be bloody or be nothing worth!
‘Tis but thy name that is my enemy;
Thou art thyself, though not a Montague.
What’s Montague? it is nor hand, nor foot,
Nor arm, nor face, nor any other part
Belonging to a man. O, be some other name!
One touch of nature makes the whole world kin.
Beatrice: You always end with a jade’s trick. I know you of old.
Benedick: I may chance have some odd quirks and remnants of wit broken on me, because I have railed so long against marriage: but doth not the appetite alter? a man loves the meat in his youth that he cannot endure in his age.
Prospero: What seest thou else
In the dark backward and abysm of time?
Ornament is but the guiled shore to a most dangerous sea.
That’s certain. I for my part knew the tailor
That made the wings she flew withal.
Fair is foul, and foul is fair.
Lord, what fools these mortals be!
Lowliness is young ambition’s ladder,
whereto the climber-upward turns his face;
But when he once attains the upmost round,
He then unto the ladder turns his back,
Looks in the clouds, scorning the base degrees
By which he did ascend.
Welcome ever smiles,
And farewell goes out sighing.
Benedick: I would my horse had the speed of your tongue.
Benedick: for I will be horribly in love with her.
I, thus neglecting worldly ends, all dedicated
To closeness and the bettering of my mind
There is no vice so simple but assumes some mark of virtue on his outward parts.
Try what my credit can in Venice do
To furnish you to Belmont, and fair Portia.
Double, double toil and trouble;
Fire burn and cauldron bubble.
The course of true love never did run smooth