Cymbeline

 

"There write, my queen, and with my eyes I'll drink the words you send
though ink be made of gall."

 

 

Posthumus

 

 

Imogen

 

[To Cloten] "The meanest garment of my husband is dearer to me than your foolish person."

 

 

Cloten

 

"Everyone has his bellyful of fighting, and I must go up and down like a cock that nobody can match."

 

 

 

Queen

 

"I'd like to try the forces of this poison

On little creatures we count not worth hanging, like dogs and cats, or horses, but no human."

 

                   Cymbeline

 

 

 

     "Who is it that can read a woman?"

 

 

  Iachimo

 

"Tell me where your lady is, and I will bring from there that honour of hers which you imagine so intact."