As You Like It
The worst fault you have is to be in love.
'Tis a fault I will not change for your best virtue.
I am weary of you.
By my troth, I was seeking for a fool when I found
He is drowned in the brook: look but in, and you
shall see him.
There I shall see mine own figure.
Which I take to be either a fool or a cipher. (3.2.9)
[...] many a man has good horns, and
knows no end of them. Well, that is the dowry of
his wife; 'tis none of his own getting. Horns?
Even so. Poor men alone? No, no; the noblest deer
hath them as huge as the rascal. (3.3.9)
Was't you he rescu'd?
Was't you that did so oft contrive to kill him?
'Twas I; but 'tis not I. I do not shame
To tell you what I was, since my conversion
So sweetly tastes, being the thing I am. (4.3.10)