1.Keep up your bright swords, for the dew will rust them.
2.O, beware, my lord, of jealousy; it is the green-eyed monster which doth mock the meat it feeds on.
3.Good name in man and woman, dear my lord, is the immediate jewel of their souls: Who steals my purse steals trash; it is something, nothing.
4.O, curse of marriage, that we can call these delicate creatures ours, and not their appetites!
5.We cannot all be masters, nor all masters cannot be truly followed.
6.Not poppy,nor mandragora, Nor all the drowsy syrups of the world, Shall ever medicine thee to that sweet sleep Which thou owedst yesterday.
7.O, beware, my lord, of jealousy! It is the green-eyed monster which doth mock the meat it feeds on.
8.Roderigo. By heaven, I rather would have been his hangman.
9.And what's to come of my despised time Is nought but bitterness.
10.Is there not charms By which the property of youth and maidhood May be abused?
11.Though in the trade of war I have slain men, Yet do I hold it very stuff o' the conscience To do no contrived murder: I lack iniquity Sometimes to do me service: nine or ten times I had thought to have yerk'd him here under the ribs.
12.My services which I have done the signiory Shall out-tongue his complaints.
13.But that I love the gentle Desdemona, I would not my unhoused free condition Put into circumscription and confine For the sea's worth.
14.My parts, my title and my perfect soul Shall manifest me rightly.
15. For nature so preposterously to err, Being not deficient, blind, or lame of sense, Sans witchcraft could not.
16.I therefore vouch again That with some mixtures powerful o'er the blood, Or with some dram conjured to this effect, He wrought upon her.
17. Men do their broken weapons rather use Than their bare hands.
18. Most gracious duke, To my unfolding lend your prosperous ear; And let me find a charter in your voice, To assist my simpleness.
19.My heart's subdued Even to the very quality of my lord: I saw Othello's visage in his mind, And to his honour and his valiant parts Did I my soul and fortunes consecrate.
20.dear lords, if I be left behind, A moth of peace, and he go to the war, The rites for which I love him are bereft me, And I a heavy interim shall support By his dear absence. Let me go with him.
21.No, when light-wing'd toys Of feather'd Cupid seal with wanton dullness My speculative and officed instruments, That my disports corrupt and taint my business, Let housewives make a skillet of my helm, And all indign and base adversities Make head against my estimation!
22.Brave Moor, use Desdemona well.
23.She has deceived her father, and may thee.
24.My life upon her faith!
25.I confess it is my shame to be so fond; but it is not in my virtue to amend it.
26.Our bodies are our gardens, to the which our wills are gardeners,
27.Would she give you so much of her lips As of her tongue she oft bestows on me, You'll have enough.
28.You may relish him more in the soldier than in the scholar.
29.The heavens forbid But that our loves and comforts should increase, Even as our days do grow!
30.I cannot speak enough of this content; It stops me here, it is too much of joy