What though care killed a cat, thou hast mettle enough in thee to kill care. — William Shakespeare Copy Share Image
Stay, my lord, And let your reason with your choler question What 'tis you go about: to climb steep hills Requires slow… — William Shakespeare Copy Share Image
Anger is like A full hot horse, who being allowed his way, Self-mettle tires him. — William Shakespeare Copy Share Image
Ever note, Lucilius, When love begins to sicken and decay It useth an enforced ceremony. There are no tricks in plain and… — William Shakespeare Copy Share Image
Well could he ride, and often men would say, "That horse his mettle from his rider takes: Proud of subjection, noble by… — 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
