Our fancies are more giddy and unfirm, more longing, wavering, sooner lost and won, than women's are. — 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
Make me a willow cabin at your gate, And call upon my soul within the house; Write loyal cantons of contemned love… — William Shakespeare Copy Share Image
Come away, come away, death, And in sad cypres let me be laid; Fly away, fly away, breath; I am slain by… — William Shakespeare Copy Share Image
That strain again! It had a dying fall: O, it came o'er my ear like the sweet sound That breathes upon a… — William Shakespeare Copy Share Image
What's to come is still unsure: In delay there lies no plenty; Then come kiss me, sweet and twenty, Youth's a stuff… — William Shakespeare Copy Share Image
I love thee so, that, maugre all thy pride, Nor wit nor reason can my passion hide. Do not extort thy reasons… — William Shakespeare Copy Share Image
