Bell, book and candle shall not drive me back, When gold and silver becks me to come on. — William Shakespeare Copy Share Image
The wine-cup is the little silver well, Where truth, if truth there be, doth dwell. — William Shakespeare Copy Share Image
It is my soul that calls upon my name; How silver-sweet sound lovers' tongues by night, like softest music to attending ears!… — William Shakespeare Copy Share Image
Four days will quickly steep themselves in nights; Four nights will quickly dream away the time; And then the moon, like to… — William Shakespeare Copy Share Image
The pleasant'st angling is to see the fish Cut with her golden oars the silver stream And greedily devour the treacherous bait. — William Shakespeare Copy Share Image
Roses have thorns, and silver fountains mud; Clouds and eclipses stain both moon and sun, And loathsome canker lies in sweetest bud.… — William Shakespeare Copy Share Image
Thus weary of the world, away she hies, And yokes her silver doves; by whose swift aid Their mistress mounted through the… — William Shakespeare Copy Share Image
It is that fery person for all the orld, as just as you will desire; and seven hundred pounds of moneys, and… — William Shakespeare Copy Share Image
This royal throne of kings, this sceptered isle, This earth of majesty, this seat of Mars, This other Eden, demi-paradise, This fortress… — William Shakespeare Copy Share Image
When griping grief the heart doth wound, and doleful dumps the mind opresses, then music, with her silver sound, with speedy help… — William Shakespeare Copy Share Image
All gold and silver rather turn to dirt, An 'tis no better reckoned but of these Who worship dirty gods. — William Shakespeare Copy Share Image
When daisies pied and violets blue And lady-smocks all silver-white And cuckoo-buds of yellow hue Do paint the meadows with delight, The… — 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
