BENEDICK: Why, i’ faith, methinks she’s too low for a high praise, too brown for a fair praise and too little for a great praise: only this commendation I can afford her, that were she other than she is, she were unhandsome; and being no other but as she is, I do not like her.

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Leonato: O Lord, my lord, if they were but a week married, they would talk themselves mad.

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.

Benedick: I would my horse had the speed of your tongue.

Benedick: for I will be horribly in love with her.