“I loved Ophelia: forty thousand brothersCould not, with all their quantity of love,Make up my sum. What wilt thou do for her?...'Swounds, show me what thou'lt do:Woo't weep? woo't fight? woo't fast? woo't tear thyself?Woo't drink up eisel? eat a crocodile?I'll do't. Dost thou come here to whine?To outface me with leaping in her grave?Be buried quick with her, and so will I:And, if thou prate of mountains, let them throwMillions of acres on us, till our ground,Singeing his pate against the burning zone,Make Ossa like a wart! Nay, an thou'lt mouth,I'll rant as well as thou.”

“Thou dost love her, because thou knowst I love her.”

“Take all my loves, my love, yea, take them all,What hast thou then more than thou hadst before? No love, my love, that thou mayst true love call, All mine was thine, before thou hadst this more. Then if for my love thou my love receivest,I cannot blame thee for my love thou usest, But yet be blam’d, if thou this self deceivest By willful taste of what thyself refusest.”

“If thou wilt be mine, I shall make thee happier than God Himself in His paradise. The angels themselves will be jealous of thee. Tear off that funeral shroud in which thou about to wrap thyself. I am Beauty, I am Youth, I am Life. Come to me! Together we shall be Love.”

“But Kate, dost thou understand thus much English? Canst thou love me?"Catherine: "I cannot tell."Henry: "Can any of your neighbours tell, Kate? I'll ask them.”

“Once for all, then, a short precept is given thee: Love, and do what thou wilt: whether thou hold thy peace, through love hold thy peace; whether thou cry out, through love cry out; whether thou correct, through love correct; whether thou spare, through love do thou spare: let the root of love be within, of this root can nothing spring but what is good.”