If music be the food of love, play on, | Give me excess of it that, surfeiting, the appetite may sicken and so die |
enough, no more/ | ’tis not so sweet now as it was before |
so full of shapes is fancy | that it alone is high fantastical |
I turned into a hart, and my desires | like fell and cruel hounds, e’er since pursue me |
till seven | years heat |
like a | cloistress she will veiled walk |
how will | she love |
a noble duke | in nature as in name |
what great ones do | the less will prattle of |
What’s she? | What’s she? |
conceal me | what I am |
eunuch | eunuch |
care’s an | enemy to life |
he’s as tall a man as | any’s in Illyria |
a fool and | very prodigal |
good Mistress | Accost |
thou mightst | never draw sword again |
What’s your | metaphor |
already you are | no stranger |
I have unclasped | to thee the book even of my secret soul |
diana’s lip | is not more smooth and rubious |
yet, a barful strife-/ | whoe’er I woo, I myself would be his wife |
Quinapalus | Quinapalus |
the lady bade take away the fool. | therefore, I say again, take her away |
I wear not | motley in my brain |
feste ‘has no more | brain than a stone’ |
you are sick | of self-love, Malvolio |
is’t not | well done? |
with groans that thunder love, | with sighs of fire |
what is | your parentage? |
even so quickly | may one catch the plague? |
Fate, show thy force. ourselves we do not owe./ | what is decreed must be, and this is so |
Twelfth Night Act 1 Quotes
July 24, 2019