Foolery, sir, does walk about the orb like the sun; it shines everywhere. — William Shakespeare Copy Share Image
There's not the smallest orb which thou behold'st But in his motion like an angel sings. — William Shakespeare Copy Share Image
How sweet the moonlight sleeps upon this bank! Here will we sit, and let the sounds of music Creep in our ears;… — William Shakespeare Copy Share Image
How sweet the moonlight sleeps upon this bank Here we will sit, and let the sounds of music Creep in our ears;… — William Shakespeare Copy Share Image
O, swear not by the moon, the fickle moon, the inconstant moon, that monthly changes in her circle orb, Lest that thy… — 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
