The gods are just, and of our pleasant vices Make instruments to plague us. — William Shakespeare Copy Share Image
Call me what instrument you will, though you can fret me, you cannot play upon me. — William Shakespeare Copy Share Image
The language I have learnt these forty years, My native English, now I must forgo; And now my tongue's use is to… — William Shakespeare Copy Share Image
“do you think I am easier to be played on than a pipe? Call me what instrument you will, though you can… — William Shakespeare Copy Share Image
“Why, masters, have your instruments been in Naples, that they speak i’ the nose thus? FIRST MUSICIAN How, sir, how! CLOWN Are… — 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
