Related:

• It is no act of common passage, but A strain of rareness.
  -- William Shakespeare (1564-1616), Cymbeline -- Act iii, Sc. 4...
• I have not slept one wink. -- William Shakespeare (1564-1616), Cymbeline -- Act iii, Sc. 4
• A breath thou art, Servile to all the skyey influences.
  -- William Shakespeare (1564-1616), Measure for Measure -- Act iii, Sc. 1...
• The game is up. -- William Shakespeare (1564-1616), Cymbeline -- Act iii, Sc. 3
• Thou canst not say I did it; never shake Thy gory locks at me.
  -- William Shakespeare (1564-1616), Macbeth -- Act iii, Sc. 4...
• O flesh, flesh, how art thou fishified! -- William Shakespeare (1564-1616), Romeo and Juliet -- Act ii, Sc.
  4...
• How bravely thou becomest thy bed, fresh lily. -- William Shakespeare (1564-1616), Cymbeline -- Act ii, Sc.
  2...
• Thou hast no speculation in those eyes Which thou dost glare with!
  -- William Shakespeare (1564-1616), Macbeth -- Act iii, Sc. 4...
• No, 't is slander, Whose edge is sharper than the sword, whose tongue Outvenoms all the worms of Nile, whose breath Rides on the posting winds, and doth belie All corners of the world.
  -- William Shakespeare (1564-1616), Cymbeline -- Act iii, Sc. 4...