I'll say she looks as clear as morning roses newly washed with dew. — William Shakespeare Copy Share Image
Then will I raise aloft the milk-white rose. For whose sweet smell the air shall be perfumed. — William Shakespeare Copy Share Image
He wears the rose Of youth upon him, from which the world should note Something particular. — William Shakespeare Copy Share Image
No doubt they rose up early to observe the rite of May; and, hearing our intent, Came here in grace of our… — William Shakespeare Copy Share Image
I have seen roses damask'd, red and white, But no such roses see I in her cheeks. — William Shakespeare Copy Share Image
When I have plucked the rose, I cannot give it vital growth again, It needs must wither. I'll smell it on the… — William Shakespeare Copy Share Image
“That which we call a rose By any other name would smell as sweet;” — William Shakespeare Copy Share Image
Lawn as white as driven snow; Cyprus black as e'er was crow; Gloves as sweet as damask roses. — William Shakespeare Copy Share Image
But earthlier happy is the rose distill'd Than that which withering on the virgin thorn Grows, lives, and dies in single blessedness. — William Shakespeare Copy Share Image
O Romeo, Romeo! wherefore art thou Romeo? Deny thy father and refuse thy name; Or, if thou wilt not, be but sworn… — William Shakespeare Copy Share Image
Such an act That blurs the grace and blush of modesty; Calls virtue hypocrite; takes off the rose From the fair forehead… — William Shakespeare Copy Share Image
I know a bank where the wild thyme blows, Where oxlips and the nodding violet grows, Quite over-canopied with luscious woodbine, With… — William Shakespeare Copy Share Image
I was too young that time to value her, But now I know her. If she be a traitor, Why, so am… — William Shakespeare Copy Share Image
Therefore the moon, the governess of floods, Pale in her anger washes all the air, That rheumatic diseases do abound; And through… — William Shakespeare Copy Share Image
Roses have thorns, and silver fountains mud; Clouds and eclipses stain both moon and sun, And loathsome canker lies in sweetest bud.… — William Shakespeare Copy Share Image
But thou art fair, and at thy birth, dear boy, Nature and Fortune join'd to make thee great: Of Nature's gifts thou… — William Shakespeare Copy Share Image
Say she rail; why, I'll tell her plain She sings as sweetly as a nightingale. Say that she frown; I'll say she… — William Shakespeare Copy Share Image
The seasons alter: hoary-headed frosts Fall in the fresh lap of the crimson rose, And on old Hiems' thin and icy crown… — William Shakespeare Copy Share Image
The lily I condemned for thy hand, And buds of marjoram had stol'n thy hair: The roses fearfully on thorns did stand,… — William Shakespeare Copy Share Image
O Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou Romeo? Deny thy father refuse thy name, thou art thyself thou not a montegue, what is… — William Shakespeare Copy Share Image
Yet nor the lays of birds nor the sweet smell Of different flowers in odour and in hue Could make me any… — William Shakespeare Copy Share Image
Either to die the death or to abjure For ever the society of men. Therefore, fair Hermia, question your desires; Know of… — William Shakespeare Copy Share Image
What, no more ceremony? See, my women! Against the blown rose may they stop their nose That kneel'd unto the buds. — William Shakespeare Copy Share Image
At Christmas I no more desire a rose Than wish a snow in May's new-fangled mirth; But like of each thing that… — William Shakespeare Copy Share Image
The rose looks fair, but fairer we it deem For that sweet odour which doth in it live. — William Shakespeare Copy Share Image
Women are as roses, whose fair flower, being once displayed, doth fall that very hour. — William Shakespeare Copy Share Image
What's in a name? That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet. — William Shakespeare Copy Share Image
The seasons alter: hoary-headed frosts Fall in the fresh lap of the crimson rose. — William Shakespeare Copy Share Image
Fair ladies, masked, are roses in their bud; Dismasked, the damask sweet commixture shown, Are angels vailing clouds, or roses blown. — William Shakespeare Copy Share Image
Time hath not yet so dried this blood of mine, Nor age so eat up my invention, Nor fortune made such havoc of my… — William Shakespeare Copy Share
“Love is a smoke made with the fume of sighs; Being purg'd, a fire sparkling in lovers' eyes; Being vex'd, a sea nourish'd with… — William Shakespeare Copy Share
I, measuring his affections by my own, Which then most sought where most might not be found, Being one too many by my weary… — William Shakespeare Copy Share
Ask God for temp'rance. That's th' appliance only Which your disease requires. — William Shakespeare Copy Share
“Thou hast no figures nor no fantasies Which busy care draws in the brains of men; Therefore thou sleep’st so sound. Julius Caesar (2.1.248-251)” — William Shakespeare Copy Share
Have you not heard it said full oft, A woman's nay doth stand for naught? — William Shakespeare Copy Share
“Yes, madam: yet I cannot choose but laugh, To think it should leave crying and say 'Ay.' And yet, I warrant, it had upon… — William Shakespeare Copy Share
I take thee at thy word: Call me but love, and I'll be new baptized; Henceforth I never will be Romeo. — William Shakespeare Copy Share
