Ay, but hearken, sir; though the chameleon Love can feed on the air, I am one that am nourished by my victuals, and would fain have meat.

Speed. O jest unseen, inscrutable, invisible,
As a nose on a man's face, or a weathercock on a steeple!
My master sues to her, and she hath taught her suitor,
He being her pupil, to become her tutor.
O excellent device! was there ever heard a better,
That my master, being scribe, to himself should write the letter?
Valentine. How now, sir? what are you reasoning with yourself?
Speed. Nay, I was rhyming: 'tis you that have the reason.

You have her father's love, Demetrius;
Let me have Hermia's: do you marry him.

Ha. "Against my will I am sent to bid you come into dinner." There's a double meaning in that.
-Benedick (Much Ado)

I would my horse had the speed of your tongue . . .

For what good turn?
Messenger: For the best turn of the bed.