Benedick: What, my dear Lady Disdain! Are you yet living? Beatrice: Is it possible that disdain should die while she hath such meet food to feed it as Signior Benedick? Courtesy itself must convert to disdain if you come in her presence. Benedick: Then is courtsey a turncoat. But it is certain that I am loved of all ladies, only you excepted; and I would I could find in my heart that I had not a hard heart for, truly, I love none. Beatrice: A dear happiness to women! They would else have been bothered with a pernicious suitor...
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I shall have the veil withdrawn and be allowed to gaze unblinded on the narrow limits of my own possibilities.
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So much perfection argues rottenness somewhere.
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I didn't see my character, Core, as a cannibal but as somebody who is extremely passionate and who doesn't have any conscience. She takes her passion to its complete extreme.
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Don Pedro. Will you have me, lady? Beatrice. No, my lord, unless I might have another for working-days: your grace is too costly to wear ...
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I was born because my mother needed a fourth for meals.
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