Olivia: What's a drunken man like, fool?
Feste: Like a drowned man, a fool, and a madman: one draught above heat makes him a fool; the second mads him; and a third drowns him.

Well, God give them wisdom that have it; and those that are fools, let them use their talents.

Lady, you are the cruel'st she alive
If you will lead these graces to the grave
And leave the world no copy.

I can hardly forbear hurling things at him.

Are you sure/That we are awake? It seems to me/That yet we sleep, we dream

Antonio: Will you stay no longer? nor will you not that I go with you?
Sebastian: By your patience, no. My stars shine darkly over me; the malignancy of my fate might, perhaps, distemper yours; therefore I shall crave of you your leave that I may bear my evils alone. It were a bad recompense for your love to lay any of them on you.