Day doth daily draw my sorrows longer, And night doth nightly make grief's length seem stronger
A woman would run through fire and water for such a kind heart.
And where two waging fires meet togetherThey do consume the thing that feeds their fury.Though little fire grows great with little wind,Yet extreme gusts will blow out fire and all.
A man whom both the waters and the wind,In that vast tennis-court, have made the ballFor them to play upon.
In the spring time, the only pretty ring time,When birds do sing, hey ding a ding;Sweet lovers love the spring.
Love is a smoke made with the fume of sighs.
This blessed plot, this earth, this realm, this England,This nurse, this teeming womb of royal kings,Feared by their breed and famous by their birth.
My cake is dough.
One more, and this the last:So sweet was ne'er so fatal.
Affection faints not like a pale-faced coward,But then woos best when most his choice is froward.
The better part of valor is discretion, in the which better part I have saved my life
All the world's a stage and all the men and women merely players.
I hold the world but as the world, Gratiano; A stage where every man must play a part, And mine is a sad one
All the world's a stage, And all the men and women merely players; They have their exits and their entrances; And one man in his time plays many parts, His acts being seven ages
Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player, that struts and frets his hour upon the stage and then is heard no more; it is a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing.
Wisely, and slow. They stumble that run fast.
l do desire we be better strangers
Lovers and madmen have such seething brains, such shaping fantasies, that apprehend more than cool reason ever comprehends.
A high hope for a low heaven.
A fool thinks himself to be wise, but a wise man knows himself to be a fool.
They do not love that do not show their love.
So shaken as we are, so wan with care.
Absence doth sharpen love, presence strengthens it; the one brings fuel, the other blows it till it burns clear.
Out of my lean and low abilityI'll lend you something.
Who steals my purse, steals trash, but he that filches from me my good name robs me of that which not enriches him and makes me poor indeed.
Through tattered clothes small vices do appear; Robes and furred gowns hide them all
I kissed thee ere I killed thee -- no way but this,Killing myself, to die upon a kiss.
Though care killed a cat, thou hast mettle enough in thee to kill care
Be not too tame neither, but let your own discretion be your tutor: suit the action to the word, the word to the action.
The world is grown so bad, that wrens make prey where eagles dare not perch.Since every Jack became a gentleman,There's many a gentle person made a Jack.
If I must die,I will encounter darkness as a bride,And hug it in mine arms.
This done he took the bride about the neck - and kiss'd her lips with such a clamorous smack that at the parting, all the church did echo
Doubt that the stars are fire, doubt that the sun doth move, doubt truth to be a liar, but never doubt I love.
Forty thousand brothersCould not, with all their quantity of love,Make up my sum.
Things base and vile, holding no quantity, love can transpose to form and dignity. Love looks not with the eye, but with the mind, and therefore is winged Cupid painted blind.
So full of artless jealousy is guilt, It spills itself in fearing to be spilt
He draweth out the thread of his verbosity finer than the staple of his argument
There was never virgin got till virginity was first lost
But love is blind, and lovers cannot see What petty follies they themselves commit
Tut, man, one fire burns out another's burning, One pain is lessen'd by another's anguish; Turn giddy, and be holp by backward turning; One desperate grief cures with another's languish: Take thou some new infection to thy eye, And the rank poison of
Seal up the mouth of outrage for a while,Till we can clear these ambiguities.
A hundred thousand welcomes. I could weep / And I could laugh, I am light and heavy. / Welcome.
Let there be gall enough in thy ink; though thou write with a goose-pen, no matter.
For I have neither wit, nor words, nor worth, action nor utterance, nor the power of speech, to stir men's blood. I only speak right on. I tell you that which you yourselves do know.
My mind is troubled, like a fountain stirred;And I myself see not the bottom of it.
The weight of this sad time we must obey;Speak what we feel, not what we ought to say.
But when her lips were ready for his pay,He winks, and turns his lips another way.
Our bodies are our gardens... our wills are our gardeners.
I am as vigilant as a cat to steal cream.
Words pay no debts.
Motivational, Inspirational, Funny Quotes