BENEDICK: What, my dear Lady Disdain! are you yet living?
BEATRICE: Is it possible disdain should die while she hath such meet food to feed it as Signior Benedick? Courtesy itself must convert to disdain, if you come in her presence.

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Don Pedro: I shall see thee, ere I die, look pale with love.
Benedick: With anger, with sickness, or with hunger, my lord. Not with love.

CLAUDIO: In mine eye she is the sweetest lady that ever I looked on.

Don Pedro: Will you have me, lady?
Beatrice: No, my lord, unless I might have another for working days. Your grace is too costly to wear everyday.

BENEDICK: Is’t come to this? In faith, hath not the world one man but he will wear his cap with suspicion? Shall I never see a bachelor of three-score again?

Claudio: Friendship is constant in all other things, save in the office and affairs of love.