Quotes of All Topics . Occasions . Authors
Lord, I could not endure a husband with a beard on his face! I had rather lie in the woolen.
God is our fortress, in whose conquering name Let us resolve to scale their flinty bulwarks.
O, teach me how you look, and with what art You sway the motion of Demetrius' heart."-Helena
He knows what it's like to strut and fret his hour upon the stage and then be heard no more.
I beseech you, Wrest once the law to your authority: To do a great right, do a little wrong.
No beast so fierce but knows some touch of pity. But I know none, and therefore am no beast.
Do not give dalliance too much rein; the strongest oaths are straw to the fire in the blood.
I cannot, nor I will not hold me still; My tongue, though not my heart, shall have his will.
Did my heart love till now? forswear it, sight! For I ne'er saw true beauty till this night.
Women are not In their best fortunes strong, but want will perjure the ne'er-touched vestal.
A hundred thousand welcomes: I could weep, And I could laugh; I am light and heavy: Welcome.
Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more; Or close the wall with our English dead.
Crabbed age and youth cannot live together: Youth is full of pleasance, age is full of care.
I pray thee cease thy counsel, Which falls into mine ears as profitless as water in a sieve.
One fairer than my love? The all-seeing sun Ne'er saw her match since first the world begun.
Poor wretches that depend On greatness' favor, dream as I have done; Wake, and find nothing.
He that is proud eats up himself: pride is his own glass, his own trumpet, his own chronicle.
Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind, And therefore is winged Cupid painted blind.
Nay, we must think men are not gods, Nor of them look for such observancy As fits the bridal.
I had rather eleven died nobly for their country than one voluptuously surfeit out of action.
Discharge my followers; let them hence away, From Richard's night to Bolingbrooke's fair day.
O God, O God, how weary, stale, flat, and unprofitable seem to me all the uses of this world!
The curse of marriage That we can call these delicate creatures ours And not their appetites!
O thou invisible spirit of wine, if thou hast no name to be known by, let us call thee devil.
I know a lady in Venice would have walked barefoot to Palestine for a touch of his nether lip
I have heard of some kind of men that put quarrels purposely on others, to taste their valor.
Here's that which is too weak to be a sinner, honest water, which ne'er left man i' the mire.
I think the devil will not have me damned, lest the oil that's in me should set hell on fire.
Were beauty under twenty locks kept fast, yet love breaks through and picks them all at last.
Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks within his bending sickle's compass come.
By Heaven, my soul is purg'd from grudging hate; And with my hand I seal my true heart's love
Thou ever young, fresh, lov'd, and delicate wooer, whose blush doth thaw the consecrated snow
All fancy-sick she is and pale of cheer, with sighs of love, that costs the fresh blood dear.
This bud of love, by summer's ripening breath, May prove a beauteous flower when next we meet
Lawn as white as driven snow; Cyprus black as e'er was crow; Gloves as sweet as damask roses.
Where the bee sucks, there suck I In the cow-slip's bell i lie There I couch when owls do cry
So long as men can breathe, or eyes can see, So long lives this, and this gives life to thee.
Then will I raise aloft the milk-white rose. For whose sweet smell the air shall be perfumed.
For we, which now behold these present days, Have eyes to wonder, but lack tongues to praise.
We are not ourselves When nature, being oppressed, commands the mind To suffer with the body.
Why, what is pomp, rule, reign, but earth and dust? And, live we how we can, yet die we must.
Well, God's above all; and there be souls must be saved, and there be souls must not be saved.
Will Fortune never come with both hands full, But write her fair words still in foulest terms?
Fat paunches have lean pates, and dainty bits Make rich the ribs, but backrout quite the wits.
To say the truth, so Judas kissed his master And cried, 'All hail!' when as he meant all harm.
Love runs away from those chasing her, and those who run away, she throws herself on his neck.
Now see that noble and most sovereign reason, Like sweet bells jangled, out of tune and harsh.
The smallest worm will turn being trodden on, And doves will peck in safeguard of their brood.
Love thyself last, cherish those hearts that hate thee; Corruption wins not more than honesty.
To persevere In obstinate condolement is a course Of impious stubbornness: 'tis unmanly grief.