A trim exploit, a manly enterprise
To conjure tears up in a poor maid’s eyes
With your derision! None of noble sort
Would so offend a virgin, and extort
A poor soul’s patience, all to make your sport.
–Midsummer Night’s Dream,
Act II, Scene ii
Lord, what fools these mortals be!
-A Midsummer Night’s Dream,
Act III, Scene ii
And as imagination bodies forth
The forms of things unknown, the poet’s pen
Turns them to shapes and gives to airy nothing
A local habitation and a name.
–A Midsummer Night’s Dream,
Act V, Scene i
I am sick when I do look on thee.
-A Midsummer Night’s Dream,
Act II, Scene i
The moon methinks looks with a watery eye;
And when she weeps, weeps every little flower,
Lamenting some enforced chastity.
—A Midsummer Night’s Dream,
Act III, Scene i
In the night, imagining some fear,
How easy is a bush supposed a bear!
–A Midsummer Night’s Dream,
Act V, Scene i
Hang off, thou cat, thou burr! vile thing, let loose,
Or I will shake thee from me like a serpent!
—A Midsummer Night’s Dream,
Act III, Scene ii