Infirm of purpose! Give me the daggers: the sleeping and the dead are but as pictures: ‘tis the eye of childhood that… — William Shakespeare Copy Share Image
To die, to sleep - To sleep, perchance to dream - ay, there's the rub, For in this sleep of death what… — 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
Drink, sir, is a great provoker of three things . . . nose-painting, sleep, and urine. Lechery, sir, it provokes, and unprovokes;… — William Shakespeare Copy Share Image
We are such stuff as dreams are made of, and our little life is rounded with a sleep. — William Shakespeare Copy Share Image
Macduff: What three things does drink especially provoke? Porter: Marry, sir, nose-painting, sleep, and urine. — William Shakespeare Copy Share Image
This sleep is sound indeed; this is a sleep That from this golden rigol hath divorc'd So many English kings. — William Shakespeare Copy Share Image
Thy best of rest is sleep, And that thou oft provok'st; yet grossly fear'st Thy death, which is no more. — William Shakespeare Copy Share Image
“For in that sleep of death what dreams may come When we have shuffled off this mortal coil,Must give us pause” — William Shakespeare Copy Share Image
Why then, O brawling love! O loving hate! O any thing, of nothing first create! O heavy lightness, serious vanity, Misshapen chaos… — William Shakespeare Copy Share Image
Let fancy still in my sense in Lethe steep; If it be thus to dream, still let me sleep! — William Shakespeare Copy Share Image
Be not afeard; the isle is full of noises, Sounds, and sweet airs, that give delight and hurt not. Sometimes a thousand… — William Shakespeare Copy Share Image
'Tis the soldier's life to have their balmy slumbers waked with strife. — 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
