But, soft! what light through yonder window breaks? It is the east, and Juliet is the sun. — William Shakespeare Copy Share Image
If I profane with my unworthiest hand This holy shrine, the gentle fine is this: My lips, two blushing pilgrims, ready stand… — William Shakespeare Copy Share Image
This bud of love, by summer's ripening breath, May prove a beauteous flower when next we meet — William Shakespeare Copy Share Image
My love is deep; the more I give to thee, the more I have, both are infinite. — William Shakespeare Copy Share Image
Benvolio: What sadness lengthens Romeo's hours? Romeo: Not having that, which, having, makes them short. — William Shakespeare Copy Share Image
But, soft! what light through yonder window breaks? It is the east, and Juliet is the sun. Arise, fair sun, and kill… — 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
