This is the excellent foppery of the world, that, when we are sick in fortune,--often the surfeit of our own behavior,--we make… — William Shakespeare Copy Share Image
Lords, I protest my soul is full of woe That blood should sprinkle me to make me grow. Come, mourn with me… — William Shakespeare Copy Share Image
We make guilty of our disasters the sun, the moon, and the stars; as if we were villians by compulsion. — William Shakespeare Copy Share Image
My conscience hath a thousand several tongues, And every tongue brings in a several tale, And every tale condemns me for a… — William Shakespeare Copy Share Image
But as the unthought-on accident is guilty To what we wildly do, so we profess Ourselves to be the slaves of chance,… — 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
