Quotes of All Topics . Occasions . Authors
What: is the jay more precious than the lark because his feathers are more beautiful?
I know a place where the wild thyme blows, where oxlips and the nodding violet grows.
Why, courage then! what cannot be avoided 'Twere childish weakness to lament or fear.
Henceforth, I'll bear Affliction till it do cry out itself, 'Enough, enough, and die.
Methinks you are my glass, and not my brother: I see by you I am a sweet-faced youth.
Nature, as it grows again toward earth, is fashioned for the journey, dull and heavy.
Fall Greeks; fail fame; honour or go or stay; My major vow lies here, this I'll obey.
I kissed thee ere I killed thee. No way but this, Killing myself, to die upon a kiss.
And when love speaks, the voice of all the gods makes Heaven drowsy with the harmony.
Crowns in my purse I have, and goods at home, And so am come abroad to see the world.
They are in the very wrath of love, and they will go together. Clubs cannot part them
I am asham'd that women are so simple To offer war where they should kneel for peace.
What thing, in honor, had my father lost, That need to be revived and breathed in me?
A tardiness in nature, Which often leaves the history unspoke, That it intends to do.
Thou call'st me dog before thou hadst a cause, But since I am a dog, beware my fangs.
When a father gives to his son, both laugh; when a son gives to his father, both cry.
Hereafter, in a better world than this, I shall desire more love and knowledge of you
And in the morn and liquid dew of youth, Contagious blastments are are most imminent.
Conscience is but a word that cowards use, devised at first to keep the strong in awe
My tongue will tell the anger of my heart, or else my heart concealing it will break.
For there's no motion That tends to vice in man, but I affirm It is the woman's part.
It is the purpose that makes strong the vow; But vows to every purpose must not hold.
To kill, I grant, is sin's extremest gust; But, in defence, by mercy, 'tis most just.
Have more than thou showest, Speak less than thou knowest, Lend less than thou owest.
Though Fortune's malice overthrow my state, My mind exceeds the compass of her wheel.
There lives within the very flame of love A kind of wick or snuff that will abate it.
You see me here, you gods, a poor old man, As full of grief as age; wretched in both.
Then others for breath of words respect, Me for my dumb thoughts, speaking in effect.
For my part, if a lie may do thee grace, I'll gild it with the happiest terms I have.
We cannot fight for love, as men may do; we shou'd be woo'd, and were not made to woo
We are such stuff as dreams are made on; and our little life is rounded with a sleep.
And thence from Athens turn away our eyes To seek new friends and stranger companies.
The bird that hath been limed in a bush, with trembling wings misdoubteth every bush.
Wise men never sit and wail their loss, but cheerily seek how to redress their harms.
You may my Glories and my State depose, But not my Griefes; still am I King of those.
To wilful men, the injuries that they themselves procure must be their schoolmasters.
Myself will straight aboard, and to the state This heavy act with heavy heart relate.
Take her away; for she hath lived too long, To fill the world with vicious qualities.
It easeth some, though none it ever cured, to think their dolour others have endured.
Oppose not rage while rage is in its force, but give it way a while and let it waste.
Lady, you know no rules of charity, Which renders good for bad, blessings for curses.
In nature there's no blemish but the mind. None can be called deformed but the unkind.
When lenity and cruelty play for a kingdom, the gentler gamester is the soonest winner
Look to her, Moor, if thou has eyes to see. She has deceived her father, and may thee.
Let the doors be shut upon him, that he may play the fool no where but in's own house.
And sleep, that sometime shuts up sorrow's eye, Steal me awhile from mine own company.
The better part of valor is discretion, in the which better part I have saved my life.
Unless the old adage must be verified, That beggars mounted, run their horse to death.
Let me, if not by birth, have lands by wit; All with me's meet that I can fashion fit.
But shall we wear these glories for a day? Or shall they last, and we rejoice in them?