If Love Be Blind, Love Cannot Hit

Men That Make Envy And Crooked Malice Nourishment, Dare Bite The Best.

No, No; 'tis All Men's Office To Speak Patience To Those That Wring Under The Load Of Sorrow, But No Man's Virtue Nor Sufficiency To Be So Moral When He Shall Endure The Like Himself. Therefore Give Me No Counsel: My Griefs Cry Louder Than Advertisement.

When I Said I Would Die A Bachelor, I Did Not Think I Should Live Till I Were Married.

Who Would Be So Mocked With Glory, Or To Live But In A Dream Of Friendship, To Have His Pomp And All What State Compounds But Only Painted, Like His Varnished Friends?

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.