“A feast of languages ”

“You know your mother means to feast with me,And calls herself Revenge, and thinks me mad:Hark, villains! I will grind your bones to dustAnd with your blood and it I'll make a paste,And of the paste a coffin I will rearAnd make two pasties of your shameful heads,And bid that strumpet, your unhallow'd dam,Like to the earth swallow her own increase.This is the feast that I have bid her to,And this the banquet she shall surfeit on; (5.2.18)”

“Great Timon, noble, worthy, royal Timon! Ah, when the means are gone that buy this praise, The breath is gone whereof this praise is made: Feast-won, fast-lost; one cloud of winter showers, These flies are couch'd.”

“Women speak two languages - one of which is verbal.”

“Macbeth does murder sleep - the innocent sleep,Sleep that knits up the ravell'd sleave of care,The death of each day's life, sore labor's bath, Balm of hurt minds, great nature's second course, chief nourisher in life's feast.”

“You taught me language, and my profit on't / Is, I know how to curse”

“Methought I heard a voice cry, Sleep no more!Macbeth does murder sleep, - the innocent sleep;Sleep that knits up the ravell'd sleave of care, The death of each day's life, sore labour's bath,Balm of hurt minds, great nature's second course, Chief nourisher in life's feast.”