What should a man do but be merry? For look you how cheerfully my mother looks, and my father died within's two… — William Shakespeare Copy Share Image
“You know your mother means to feast with me, And calls herself Revenge, and thinks me mad: Hark, villains! I will grind… — William Shakespeare Copy Share Image
Is there no pity sitting in the clouds That sees into the bottom of my grief? O sweet my mother, cast me… — William Shakespeare Copy Share Image
Have you not love enough to bear with me, when that rash humor which my mother gave me makes me forgetful. — William Shakespeare Copy Share Image
And to be merry best becomes you; for, out of question, you were born in a merry hour. BEATRICE No, sure, my… — William Shakespeare Copy Share Image
Seems," madam? Nay, it is; I know not "seems." 'Tis not alone my inky cloak, good mother, Nor customary suits of solemn… — William Shakespeare Copy Share Image
A grandma's name is little less in love than is the doting title of a mother. — William Shakespeare Copy Share Image
So loving to my mother, That he might not beteem the winds of heaven, Visit her face' too roughly. — William Shakespeare Copy Share Image
DON PEDRO Come, lady, come; you have lost the heart of Signior Benedick. BEATRICE Indeed, my lord, he lent it me awhile;… — William Shakespeare Copy Share Image
In thee thy mother dies, our household's name, My death's revenge, thy youth, and England's fame. — William Shakespeare Copy Share Image
“Alas, poor country, almost afraid to know itself! It cannot be called our mother, but our grave.” — William Shakespeare Copy Share Image
My father compounded with my mother under the Dragon's tail, and my nativity was under Ursa Major, so that it follows, I… — William Shakespeare Copy Share Image
Thou art thy mother's glass, and she in thee Calls back the lovely April of her prime. — William Shakespeare Copy Share Image
And all my mother came into mine eyes And gave me up to tears. — William Shakespeare Copy Share Image
“Lady Macduff: [To her son] Sirrah, your father's dead: And What will you do now? How will you live? Son: As birds… — William Shakespeare Copy Share Image
He that commends me to mine own content Commends me to the thing I cannot get. I to the world am like… — William Shakespeare Copy Share Image
Plenty and peace breed cowards; hardness ever of hardiness is mother. — William Shakespeare Copy Share Image
Demetrius: Villain, what hast thou done? Aaron: That which thou canst not undo. Chiron: Thou hast undone our mother. Aaron: Villain, I… — 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