Troilus: Well know they what they speak that speak so wisely.
Cressida: Perchance, my lord, I show more craft than love;
And fell so roundly to a large confession
To angle for your thoughts; but you are wise-
Or else you love not; for to be wise and love
Exceeds man’s might; that dwells with gods above.
Iago: O, beware, my lord, of jealousy,
It is the green-eyed monster which doth mock
The meat it feeds on. That cuckold lives in bliss
Who, certain of his fate, loves not his wronger.
But O, what damnèd minutes tells he o’er
Who dotes, yet doubts, suspects, yet strongly loves?
Othello: O misery!
Iago: Poor and content is rich, and rich enough,
But riches fineless is as poor as winter
To him that ever fears he shall be poor.
Good heaven, the souls of all my tribe defend
From jealousy!
Othello: Why? why is this?
Think’st thou I’d make a life of jealousy,
To follow still the changes of the moon
With fresh suspicions? No. To be once in doubt
Is to be resolved. Exchange me for a goat
When I shall turn the business of my soul
To such exsufflicate and blown surmises…
Prometheus Unbound 