Scabs
What’s the matter, you dissentious rogues,
That, rubbing the poor itch of your opinion,
Make yourselves scabs?
–Coriolanus,
Act I, Scene i

What’s the matter, you dissentious rogues,
That, rubbing the poor itch of your opinion,
Make yourselves scabs?
–Coriolanus,
Act I, Scene i

The tartness of his face sours ripe grapes.
–Coriolanus
Act V, Scene iv

Take but good note, and you shall see in him
The triple pillar of the world transform’d
Into a strumpet’s fool: behold and see.
–Antony and Cleopatra,
Act I, Scene i

Take her back again:
Give not this rotten orange to your friend…
—Much Ado About Nothing,
Act IV, Scene i

Or else you had looked through
the grate, like a geminy of baboons.
–Merry Wives of Windsor,
Act II, Scene ii

Thou art a boil, a plague sore, an embossed carbuncle
in my corrupted blood… But I’ll not chide thee.
-King Lear,
Act II, Scene ii

Your brows are blacker; yet black brows, they say,
Become some women best, so that there be not
Too much hair there, but in a semicircle
Or a half-moon made with a pen.
–Winter’s Tale,
Act II, Scene i