As Shakespeare says, if you're going to do a thing you might as well pop right at it and get it over.
And therefore, — since I cannot prove a lover,To entertain these fair well-spoken days, —I am determined to prove a villain,And hate the idle pleasures of these days.
Benedick: I protest I love thee.Beatrice: Why, then, God forgive me!Benedick: What offence, sweet Beatrice?Beatrice: You have stayed me in a happy hour: I was about toprotest I loved you.Benedick: And...
Miranda opened her eyes in time to see the sunrise. A wash of violent color, pink and streaks of brilliant orange, the container ships on the horizon suspended between the blaze of the sky and the wat...
Alack, there lies more peril in thine eyeThan twenty of their swords: look thou but sweet,And I am proof against their enmity.
I love you, you know,’ he said conversationally. ‘Will you marry me?’ The manner in which he made this abrupt proposal struck her as being so typical of him that a shaky laugh was dragged from her. ‘O...
I love you with so much of my heart that none is left to protest.
Thou wouldst as soon go kindle fire with snow as seek to quench the fire of love with words.
I wrote you this poem because i was afraid/ To come out and tell you i want to get laid.
I believe it was Shakespeare, or possibly Howard Cosell, who first observed that marriage is very much like a birthday candle, in that 'the flames of passion burn brightest when the wick of intimacy i...
Your face, my thane, is as a book where menMay read strange matters. To beguile the time,Look like the time; bear welcome in your eye,Your hand, your tongue: look like the innocent flower,But be the s...
O serpent heart hid with a flowering face!Did ever a dragon keep so fair a cave?Beautiful tyrant, feind angelical, dove feather raven, wolvish-ravening lamb! Despised substance of devinest show, just...
n sooth, I know not why I am so sad:It wearies me; you say it wearies you;But how I caught it, found it, or came by it,What stuff 'tis made of, whereof it is born,I am to learn;And such a want-wit sad...
We all recognize a likeness of Shakespeare the instant we see one, and yet we don’t really know what he looked like. It is like this with nearly every aspect of his life and character: He is at once t...
For in that sleep of death what dreams may come When we have shuffled off this mortal coil,Must give us pause