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
Shall I compare thee to a summer's day? Thou art more lovely and more temperate: Rough winds do shake the darling buds… — 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
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
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
His steeds to water at those springs On chaliced flowers that lies; And winking Mary-buds begin To ope their golden eyes: With… — William Shakespeare Copy Share Image
This bud of love, by summer's ripening breath, May prove a beauteous flower when next we meet — 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
And writers say, as the most forward bud Is eaten by the canker ere it blow, Even so by love the young… — William Shakespeare Copy Share Image
When daisies pied and violets blue And lady-smocks all silver-white And cuckoo-buds of yellow hue Do paint the meadows with delight, The… — William Shakespeare Copy Share Image
Yet writers say, as in the sweetest bud The eating canter dwells, so eating love Inhabits in the finest wits of all. — William Shakespeare Copy Share Image
Beauty is but a vain and doubtful good; a shining gloss that fadeth suddenly; a flower that dies when it begins to… — William Shakespeare Copy Share Image
She never told her love, but let concealment, like a worm 'i th' bud, feed on her damask cheek. She pinned in… — 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 Image
Divers philosophers hold that the lips is parcel of the mouth. — William Shakespeare Copy Share Image
“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 Image
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 Image
Ask God for temp'rance. That's th' appliance only Which your disease requires. — William Shakespeare Copy Share Image
“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 Image
Have you not heard it said full oft, A woman's nay doth stand for naught? — William Shakespeare Copy Share Image
