“If music be the food of love, play on, give me excess of it that, surfeiting, the appetite may sicken and so die. That strain again, it had a dying fall. O, it came o’er my ear like the sweet sound that breathes upon a bank of violets, stealing and giving odour. Enough, no more, ’tis not so sweet now as it was before. O spirit of love, how quick and fresh art thou that, notwithstanding thy capacity receiveth as the sea, naught enters there, of what validity and pitch so e’er, but falls into abatement and low price even in a minute! So full of shapes is fancy that it alone is high fantastical.”
“Why, so I do, the noblest that I have. Oh, when mine eyes did see Olivia first, methought she purged the air of pestilence. That instant was I turned into a hart, and my desires, like fell and cruel hounds, e'er since pursue me.”
“There is no woman’s sides can bide the beating of so strong a passion as love doth give my heart; no woman’s heart so big, to hold so much. They lack retention. Alas, their love may be called appetite, no motion of the liver, but the palate, that suffer surfeit, cloyment, and revolt. But mine is all as hungry as the sea, and can digest as much. Make no compare between that love a woman can bear me and that I owe Olivia.”
“Too well what love women to men may owe. In faith, they are as true of heart as we. My father had a daughter loved a man as it might be, perhaps, were I a woman, I should your lordship.”
“Orsino: If this be so, as yet the glass seems true, I shall have share in this most happy wrack. [To Viola] Boy, thou hast said to me a thousand times Thou never shouldst love woman like to me."
"And all those sayings will I overswear, And all those swearings keep as true in soul As doth that orbèd continent the fire That severs day from night."
"Give me thy hand, and let me see thee in thy woman’s weeds.”