“Methought I was enamour'd of an ass.”

“My Oberon, what visions have I seen!Methought I was enamored of an ass.”

“I have had a most rare vision. I have had a dream, past the wit of man to say what dream it was: man is but an ass, if he go about to expound this dream. Methought I was--there is no man can tell what. Methought I was,--and methought I had,--but man is but a patched fool, if he will offer to say what methought I had. The eye of man hath not heard, the ear of man hath not seen, man's hand is not able to taste, his tongue to conceive, nor his heart to report, what my dream was. I will get Peter Quince to write a ballad of this dream: it shall be called Bottom's Dream, because it hath no bottom...”

“and then, in dreaming, The clouds methought would open and show riches Ready to drop upon me, that when I waked I cried to dream again.”

“O, that he were here to write me down an ass! But, masters, remember, that I am an ass; though it be not written down, yet forget not that I am an ass.”

“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.”

“Be not afeard; the isle is full of noises,Sounds, and sweet airs, that give delight and hurt not.Sometimes a thousand twangling instrumentsWill hum about mine ears; and sometime voices,That, if I then had waked after long sleep,Will make me sleep again: and then, in dreaming,The clouds methought would open, and show richesReady to drop upon me; that, when I waked,I cried to dream again.”