“If her breath were as terrible as her terminations, there were no living near her, she would infect to the north star!”

“It is my lady. O, it is my love!O, that she knew she were!She speaks, yet she says nothing. What of that?Her eye discourses; I will answer it.I am too bold. ’Tis not to me she speaks.Two of the fairest stars in all the heaven,Having some business, do entreat her eyesTo twinkle in their spheres till they return.What if her eyes were there, they in her head?The brightness of her cheek would shame thosestars”

“The Brightness of her cheek would shame those stars as daylight doth a lamp; her eyes in heaven would through the airy region stream so bright that birds would sing, and think it were not night.”

“He jests at scars that never felt a wound.But soft! What light through yonder window breaks?It is the east, and Juliet is the sun.Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon,Who is already sick and pale with grief,That thou, her maid, art far more fair than she.Be not her maid since she is envious.Her vestal livery is but sick and green,And none but fools do wear it. Cast it off!It is my lady. Oh, it is my love.Oh, that she knew she were!She speaks, yet she says nothing. What of that?Her eye discourses. I will answer it.—I am too bold. 'Tis not to me she speaks.Two of the fairest stars in all the heaven,Having some business, do entreat her eyesTo twinkle in their spheres till they return.What if her eyes were there, they in her head?The brightness of her cheek would shame those starsAs daylight doth a lamp. Her eye in heavenWould through the airy region stream so brightThat birds would sing and think it were not night.See how she leans her cheek upon her hand.Oh, that I were a glove upon that handThat I might touch that cheek!”

“See how she leans her cheek upon her hand. O, that I were a glove upon that hand That I might touch that cheek!”

“Why, i' faith, methinks she's too low for a highpraise, too brown for a fair praise and too littlefor a great praise: only this commendation I canafford her, that were she other than she is, shewere unhandsome; and being no other but as she is, Ido not like her. (Benedick, from Much Ado About Nothing)”

“She that was ever fair and never proud,Had tongue at will and yet was never loud,Never lack'd gold and yet went never gay,Fled from her wish and yet said 'Now I may,'She that being anger'd, her revenge being nigh,Bade her wrong stay and her displeasure fly,She that in wisdom never was so frailTo change the cod's head for the salmon's tail;She that could think and ne'er disclose her mind,See suitors following and not look behind,She was a wight, if ever such wight were,--DESDEMONA: To do what?IAGO: To suckle fools and chronicle small beer.”