Alas, their love may be call'd appetite. No motion of the liver, but the palate — William Shakespeare Copy Share Image
With mirth and laughter let old wrinkles come. And let my liver rather heat with wine, than my heart cool with mortifying… — William Shakespeare Copy Share Image
How many cowards whose hearts are all as false As stairs of sand, wear yet upon their chins The beards of Hercules… — William Shakespeare Copy Share Image
Verily, I swear, it is better to be lowly born, and range with humble livers in content, than to be perked up… — William Shakespeare Copy Share Image
The gods are deaf to hot and peevish vows. They are polluted off'rings, more abhorred! Than spotted livers in the sacrifice. — 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
