Why should you think that I should woo in scorn?Scorn and derision never come in tears:Look, when I vow, I weep; and vows so born, In their nativity all truth appears.How can these things in me seem s...
What's in a name? that which we call a roseBy any other name would smell as sweet.
What's done cannot be undone.
We, ignorant of ourselves,Beg often our own harms, which the wise powersDeny us for our good; so find we profitBy losing of our prayers.
To weep is to make less the depth of grief.
To be, or not to be: that is the question: Whether ’tis nobler in the mind to suffer The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune, Or to take arms against a sea of troubles, And by opposing end them? T...
This rudeness is a sauce to his good wit,Which gives men stomach to digest his wordsWith better appetite.
These violent delights have violent ends.
There is a world elsewhere.
The web of our life is of a mingled yarn, good and ill together: our virtues would be proud,if our faults whipped them not; and our crimes would despair, if they were not cherished by our virtues.
Suffer love! A good ephitet! I do suffer love indeed, for I love thee against my will.
Sleep that knits up the raveled sleave of care,The death of each day's life, sore labor's bath,Balm of hurt minds, great nature's second course,Chief nourisher in life's feast.
Shall we their fond pageant see?Lord, what fools these mortals be!
Seems, madam? Nay, it is; I know not seems.'Tis not alone my inky cloak, good mother,Nor customary suits of solemn black, Nor windy suspiration of forced breath,No, nor the fruitful river in the eye,...
Romeo:If I profane with my unworthiest handThis holy shrine, the gentle fine is this:My lips, two blushing pilgrims, ready standTo smooth that rough touch with a tender kiss.Juliet:Good pilgrim, you d...
Reputation is an idle and most false imposition; oft got without merit, and lost without deserving.(Iago, Act II, scene iii)
One fire burns out another's burning,One pain is lessen'd by another's anguish.
My hands are of your color, but I shame to wear a heart so white.
Love is heavy and light, bright and dark, hot and cold, sick and healthy, asleep and awake- its everything except what it is! (Act 1, scene 1)
Love all, trust a few,Do wrong to none: be able for thine enemyRather in power than use; and keep thy friendUnder thy own life's key: be check'd for silence,But never tax'd for speech.