His life was gentle and the elements So mixed in him that nature might stand up
Love is a smoke raised with the fume of sighs Being purged a fire sparkling in lovers' eyes Being vex'd a sea nourish'd with lovers' tears: What is it else? a madness most discreet A choking gall...
For this last, Before and in Corioli, let me say, I cannot speak him home: he stopp'd the fliers; And by his rare example made the coward Turn terror into sport: as weeds before A vessel under sail, s...
Unsex me here and fill me from crown to toe full of direst cruelty That no compunctious visitings of nature Shake my fell purpose." Macbeth
Had he not resembled My father as he slept I had done't!" Macbeth
Virtue is bold, and goodness never fearful.
Love me or hate me, both are in my favour. If you love me, I'll always be in your heart... If you hate me, I'll always be in your mind.
What we are is not all that we may become.
The course of true love never did run smooth said by lysander
Now, God be praised, that to believing souls gives light in darkness, comfort in despair.
It provokes the desire, but it takes away the performance
Yet but three come one more.Two of both kinds make up four.Ere she comes curst and sad.Cupid is a knavish lad.Thus to make poor females mad.
When he shall die,Take him and cut him out in little stars,And he will make the face of heaven so fineThat all the world will be in love with nightAnd pay no worship to the garish sun.
Well, every one can master a grief but he that has it.
They lie deadly that tell you have good faces.
These violent delights have violent endsAnd in their triump die, like fire and powderWhich, as they kiss, consume
Then is courtesy a turncoat. But it is certain I am loved of all ladies, only you excepted: and I would I could find in my heart that I had not a hard heart; for, truly, I love none. Beatrice: A dear...
The weight of this sad time we must obey,Speak what we feel, not what we ought to say.The oldest hath borne most: we that are youngShall never see so much, nor live so long.
Sweet are the uses of adversity,Which, like the toad, ugly and venomous,Wears yet a precious jewel in his head;And this our life, exempt from public haunt,Finds tongues in trees, books in the running...
Some Cupid kills with arrows, some with traps.