Think you a little din can daunt mine ears? Have I not in my time heard lions roar? Have I not heard… — William Shakespeare Copy Share Image
Like the lily That once was mistress of the field and flourished, I'll hang my head and perish. — William Shakespeare Copy Share Image
Her blood is settled, and her joints are stiff; Life and these lips have long been separated: Death lies on her like… — William Shakespeare Copy Share Image
It was a lover and his lass, With a hey, and a ho, and a hey nonino, That o'er the green corn-field… — William Shakespeare Copy Share Image
Did he so often lodge in open field, In winter's cold and summer's parching heat, To conquer France, his true inheritance? — William Shakespeare Copy Share Image
I pray you bear me henceforth from the noise and rumour of the field, where I may think the remnant of my… — William Shakespeare Copy Share Image
Like a red morn that ever yet betokened, Wreck to the seaman, tempest to the field, Sorrow to the shepherds, woe unto… — William Shakespeare Copy Share Image
I will be master of what is mine own: She is my goods, my chattels; she is my house, My household stuff,… — William Shakespeare Copy Share Image
Up and down, up and down I will lead them up and down I am feared in field in town Goblin, lead… — 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
