Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more;
Or close the wall up with our English dead.
Let me embrace thee, sour adversity, for wise men say it is the wisest course.
Dogberry: Thou wilt be condemned into everlasting redemption for this.
Don Pedro: Good Signior Leonato, you are come to meet your trouble: the fashion of the world is to avoid cost, and you encounter it.
Leonato: Never came trouble to my house in the likeness of your grace: for trouble being gone, comfort should remain; but when you depart from me, sorrow abides and happiness takes his leave.
Ferdinand: here’s my hand.
Miranda: And mine, with my heart in’t
Thus hath the candle singed the moth.
If thou remember’st not the slighest folly
That ever love did make thee run into,
Thou hast not lov’d
The Play’s The Thing
My bounty is as boundless as the sea,
my love as deep;
The more I give to thee the more I have,
for both are infinite.
My conscience hath a thousand several tongues,
And every tongue brings in a several tale,
And every tale condemns me for a villain.
A man I am cross’d with adversity.
Claudio: Lady, as you are mine, I am yours.
How would, I say, mine eyes be blessed made by looking on thee in the living day, when in dead night thy fair imperfect shade through heavy sleep on sightless eyes doth stay! All days are nights to see till I see thee, and nights bright days when dreams do show thee me.
Stephano: He that dies pays all debts.
And I beseech you,
Wrest once the law to your authority,
To do a great right, do a little wrong,
And curb this cruel devil of his will.
There’s no art
To find the mind’s construction in the face
Frailty, thy name is woman!
Was ever book containing such vile matter so fairly bound? O, that deceit should dwell in such a gorgeous palace!
Now is the winter of our discontent
Made glorious summer by this sun of York,
And all the clouds that loured upon our house
In the deep bosom of the ocean buried.
Let me not live, after my flame lacks oil, to be the snuff of younger spirits.
Beatrice: I have a good eye, uncle; I can see a church by daylight.
Nor shall death brag thou wander’st in his shade,
When in eternal lines to time thou grow’st;
So long as men can breathe, or eyes can see,
So long lives this, and this gives life to thee.
Of excellent dumb discourse
But mercy is above this sceptered sway;
It is enthroned in the hearts of kings,
It is an attribute of God himself.
If it were done, when ’tis done, then ’twere well it were done quickly.