O, beware, my lord, of jealousy!It is the green-eyed monster which doth mockThe meat it feeds on.

I understand a fury in your words,But not the words.

I am not merry; but I do beguileThe thing I am, by seeming otherwise.

Excellent wretch! Perdition catch my soul,But I do love thee! and when I love thee not, Chaos is come again.

Speak to me as to thy thinkings, As thou dost ruminate, and give thy worst of thoughts The worst of words.

I will wear my heart upon my sleeveFor daws to peck at.