Related:

• Silence that dreadful bell: it frights the isle From her propriety.
  -- William Shakespeare (1564-1616), Othello -- Act ii, Sc. 3...
• I will speak daggers to her, but use none. -- William Shakespeare (1564-1616), Hamlet -- Act iii, Sc.
  2...
• Leave her to heaven And to those thorns that in her bosom lodge, To prick and sting her.
  -- William Shakespeare (1564-1616), Hamlet -- Act i, Sc. 5...
• And often did beguile her of her tears, When I did speak of some distressful stroke That my youth suffer'd.
  My story being done, She gave me for my pains a world of sigh...
• If my gossip Report be an honest woman of her word.
  -- William Shakespeare (1564-1616), The Merchant of Venice -- Act iii, Sc. 1...
• See, how she leans her cheek upon her hand! O that I were a glove upon that hand, That I might touch that cheek!
  -- William Shakespeare (1564-1616), Romeo and Juliet -- Act ii, Sc. 2...
• Excellent wretch! Perdition catch my soul, But I do love thee!
  and when I love thee not, Chaos is come again. -- William Shakespeare (1564-1616), Othello -- Act iii, Sc....
• Lay her i' the earth: And from her fair and unpolluted flesh May violets spring!
  -- William Shakespeare (1564-1616), Hamlet -- Act v, Sc. 1...
• Even in the afternoon of her best days. -- William Shakespeare (1564-1616), King Richard III -- Act iii, Sc.
  7...