As You Like It

The fool doth think he is wise, but the wise man knows himself to be a fool

Under the greenwood tree
Who loves to lie with me,
And turn his merry note
Unto the sweet bird's throat,
Come hither, come hither, come hither:
Here shall he see No enemy
But winter and rough weather.

I can suck melancholy out of a song as a weasel sucks eggs.

All the world's a stage,
And all the men and women merely players.
They have their exits and their entrances;
And one man in his time plays many parts

I do desire we may be better strangers

Time travels in divers paces with divers persons.
I'll tell you who Time ambles withal, who Time trots withal,
who Time gallops withal, and who he stands still withal

Neither rhyme nor reason

Can one desire too much of a good thing?

No sooner met but they looked;
no sooner looked but they loved;
no sooner loved but they sighed;
no sooner sighed but they asked one another the reason;
no sooner knew the reason but they sought the remedy.

Here comes a pair of very strange beasts, which in all tongues are called fools