This look of thine will hurl my soul from heaven.
These times of woe afford no time to woo.
There are no tricks in plain and simple faith.
So wise so young, they say, do never live long.
Me, poor man, my libraryWas dukedom large enough.
I hold the world but as the world, Gratiano!
Death, that hath suck'd the honey of thy breath hath had no power yet upon thy beauty.
Death, a necessary end, will come when it will come
Conscience doth make cowards of us all.
And this our life, exempt from public haunt, finds tongues in trees, books in the running brooks, sermons in stones, and good in everything. I would not change it.
Thy wish was father to that thought.
I love thee I love but thee With a love that shall not die Till the sun grows cold And the stars grow old.
If all the year were playing holidays To sport would be as tedious as to work.
Uneasy lies the head that wears a crown.
Time is the king of men.
Come what may time and the hour runs through the roughest day.
There's villainous news abroad.
Reputation is an idle and most false imposition oft got without merit and lost without deserving.
'Tis not enough to help the feeble up but to support him after.
How use doth breed a habit in a man!