"The man that hath no music in himself, Nor is not moved with concord of sweet sounds, Is fit for treasons, stratagems and spoils; The motions of his spirit are dull as night, And his affections dark as Erebus: Let no such man be trusted."

"How far that little candle throws his beams! So shines a good deed in a naughty world."

"A substitute shines brightly as a king, Until a king be by."

"The crow doth sing as sweetly as the lark, When neither is attended"

"How many things by season season’d are To their right praise and true perfection! Peace, ho! the moon sleeps with Endymion, And would not be awaked."

"This night methinks is but the daylight sick."

"A light wife doth make a heavy husband."

"These blessed candles of the night."

"Fair ladies, you drop manna in the way Of starved people."

"We will answer all things faithfully."

"The Portia of our Chambers."

"I reviewed the other moments scholars cite to prove Shylock's "humanity." There were two lines of Shylock treasuring his dead wife's ring, unlike the play's Christian men who give their wives' rings away. But unlike the other men, Shylock never gets his ring back—because his daughter steals it, and becomes a Christian, and inherits what remains of his estate at the play's triumphant end. Then there was the trial scene, where modern actors often make Shylock seem tragic rather than horrific. But that was performance, not text. Finally, scholars point to the many times Shylock explains why he is so revolting: Christians treat him poorly, so he returns the favor. But for this to satisfy, one must accept that Jews are revolting to begin with, and that their repulsiveness simply needs to be explained. None of it worked. And then I saw just how deep the gaslighting went: I felt obligated to make it work, to contort this revolting material into something that excused it. I have a doctorate in literature. I am aware that Shakespeare's plays contain many layers and mean many things. But the degrading hideousness of this character is obvious even to a ten-year-old, and no matter how many more layers the play contains, that is unambiguously one of them."

"This inhumanity of mercenary commerce is the more notable because it is a fulfilment of the law that the corruption of the best is the worst. … And this is the ultimate lesson which the leader of English intellect meant for us … in the tale of the "Merchant of Venice"; in which the true and incorrupt merchant,—kind and free, beyond every other Shakespearian conception of men,—is opposed to the corrupted merchant, or usurer; the lesson being deepened by the expression of the strange hatred which the corrupted merchant bears to the pure one, mixed with intense scorn."

"Four days will quickly steep themselves in night; Four nights will quickly dream away the time; And then the moon, like to a silver bow New-bent in heaven, shall behold the night Of our solemnities."

"Hippolyta, I woo’d thee with my sword, And won thy love, doing thee injuries."

"To you your father should be as a god; ... To whom you are but as a form in wax By him imprinted."

"I would my father look’d but with my eyes."

"For aye to be in shady cloister mew’d, To live a barren sister all your life, Chanting faint hymns to the cold fruitless moon."

"Earthlier happy is the rose distill'd, Than that which, withering on the virgin thorn, Grows, lives, and dies, in single blessedness."

"For aught that I could ever read, Could ever hear by tale or history, The course of true love never did run smooth."

"O, hell! to choose love by another’s eyes."

"Swift as a shadow, short as any dream; Brief as the lightning in the collied night, That, in a spleen, unfolds both heaven and earth, And ere a man hath power to say 'Behold!' The jaws of darkness do devour it up: So quick bright things come to confusion."

"I swear to thee, by Cupid’s strongest bow, By his best arrow with the golden head, By the simplicity of Venus’ doves, By that which knitteth souls and prospers loves, ... By all the vows that ever men have broke, In number more than ever women spoke."

"Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind; And therefore is wing’d Cupid painted blind; Nor hath Love’s mind of any judgement taste; Wings, and no eyes, figure unheedy haste: And therefore is love said to be a child, Because in choice he is so oft beguiled."

"Quince: Marry, our play is, The most lamentable comedy, and most cruel death of Pyramus and Thisby. Bottom: A very good piece of work, I assure you, and a merry."

"Masters, spread yourselves."

"Bottom: What is Pyramus? a lover, or a tyrant? Quince: A lover, that kills himself most gallant for love."

"Even so it was with me, when I was young: If we are nature’s, these are ours; this thorn Doth to our rose of youth rightly belong: Our blood to us, this to our blood is born; It is the show and seal of nature’s truth, Where love’s strong passion is impress’d in youth: By our remembrances of days foregone, Such were our faults; — or then we thought them none. Her eye is sick on’t: I observe her now."

"I’ll warrant him heart-whole."

"For now I am in a holiday humour."

"Very good orators, when they are out, they will spit; and for lovers lacking,—God warn us!—matter, the cleanliest shift is to kiss."

"Men have died from time to time and worms have eaten them, but not for love."

"Orlando: And wilt thou have me? Rosalind: Ay, and twenty such. Orlando: What sayest thou? Rosalind: Are you not good? Orlando: I hope so. Rosalind: Why then, can one desire too much of a good thing?"

"Orlando: I take thee, Rosalind, for wife. Rosalind: I might ask you for your commission; but I do take thee, Orlando, for my husband: there’s a girl goes before the priest; and certainly a woman’s thought runs before her actions. Orlando: So do all thoughts; they are winged. Rosalind: Now tell me how long you would have her after you have possessed her. Orlando: For ever and a day. Rosalind: Say ‘a day,’ without the ‘ever’. No, no, Orlando; men are April when they woo, December when they wed: maids are May when they are maids, but the sky changes when they are wives."

"Make the doors upon a woman’s wit and it will out at the casement; shut that and ’twill out at the key-hole; stop that, ’twill fly with the smoke out at the chimney."

"Time is the old justice that examines all such offenders, and let Time try."

"O coz, coz, coz, my pretty little coz, that thou didst know how many fathom deep I am in love! But it cannot be sounded: my affection hath an unknown bottom, like the bay of Portugal."

"That blind rascally boy that abuses every one’s eyes because his own are out, let him be judge how deep I am in love. I’ll tell thee, Aliena, I cannot be out of the sight of Orlando: I’ll go find a shadow and sigh till he come."

"What shall he have that kill’d the deer? His leather skin and horns to wear. Then sing him home: Take thou no scorn to wear the horn; It was a crest ere thou wast born: Thy father’s father wore it, And thy father bore it: The horn, the horn, the lusty horn Is not a thing to laugh to scorn."

"This is a man’s invention and his hand."

"Pacing through the forest, Chewing the food of sweet and bitter fancy."

"It is meat and drink to me."

"‘So so’ is good, very good, very excellent good; and yet it is not; it is but so so."

"I do now remember a saying, ‘The fool doth think he is wise, but the wise man knows himself to be a fool.’"

"I will kill thee a hundred and fifty ways."

"No sooner met but they looked; no sooner looked but they loved; no sooner loved but they sighed; no sooner sighed but they asked one another the reason; no sooner knew the reason but they sought the remedy."

"How bitter a thing it is to look into happiness through another man’s eyes!"

"Phebe: Good shepherd, tell this youth what ’tis to love. Silvius: It is to be all made of sighs and tears; ... It is to be all made of faith and service; ... It is to be all made of fantasy, All made of passion, and all made of wishes; All adoration, duty, and observance, All humbleness, all patience, and impatience, All purity, all trial, all observance."

"It was a lover and his lass, With a hey, and a ho, and a hey nonino, That o’er the green corn-field did pass In the spring time, the only pretty ring time, When birds do sing, hey ding a ding, ding: Sweet lovers love the spring. Between the acres of the rye, With a hey, and a ho, and a hey nonino, These pretty country folks would lie, In spring time, &c. This carol they began that hour, With a hey, and a ho, and a hey nonino, How that a life was but a flower In spring time, &c. And therefore take the present time, With a hey, and a ho, and a hey nonino; For love is crowned with the prime In spring time, &c."