“I read that I profess, the Art of Love.Bianca: And may you prove, sir, master of your art!Lucentio: While you, sweet dear, prove mistress of my heart!”

“Alas, sir, how fell you besides your five wits?"Malvolio: "Fool, there was never a man so notoriously abused. I am as well in my wits, fool, as thou art."Feste: "But as well? Then you are mad indeed, if you be no better in you wits than a fool.”

“Things sweet to taste prove in digestion sour.”

“Come, lady, come; you have lost the heart of Signior Benedick.BEATRICEIndeed, my lord, he lent it me awhile; and I gave him use for it, a double heart for his single one: marry, once before he won it of me with false dice, therefore your grace may well say I have lost it.DON PEDROYou have put him down, lady, you have put him down.BEATRICESo I would not he should do me, my lord, lest I should prove the mother of fools.”

“Hence! home, you idle creatures get you home:Is this a holiday? what! know you not,Being mechanical, you ought not walkUpon a labouring day without the signOf your profession? Speak, what trade art thou?”

“Do you bite your thumb at us, sir?SAMPSON [Aside to Gregory]: Is the law of our side, if I say ay?GREGORY [Aside to Sampson]: No.SAMPSON: No, sir, I do not bite my thumb at you, sir, but I bite my thumb, sir.”

“But, indeed, words are very rascals, since bonds [vows] disgraced them."Viola: "Thy reason, man?"Feste: "Troth [Truthfully], sir, I can yield you none without words, and words are grown so false, I am loathe to prove reason with them.”