Chain me with roaring bears; Or shut me nightly in a charnel-house, O'er-covered quite with dead men's rattling bones, With reeky shanks… — William Shakespeare Copy Share Image
Love is a smoke raised with the fume of sighs; Being purged, a fire sparkling in lovers' eyes; Being vexed, a sea… — William Shakespeare Copy Share Image
Lawn as white as driven snow; Cyprus black as e'er was crow; Gloves as sweet as damask roses. — 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
If you did wed my sister for her wealth, Then for her wealth's sake use her with more kindness; Or, if you… — William Shakespeare Copy Share Image
Macbeth: How does your patient, doctor? Doctor: Not so sick, my lord, as she is troubled with thick-coming fancies that keep her… — William Shakespeare Copy Share Image
Sweet Beatrice, wouldst thou come when I called thee? BEATRICE Yea, signior, and depart when you bid me. BENEDICK O, stay but… — William Shakespeare Copy Share Image
Sweet recreation barred, what doth ensue but moody and dull melancholy, kinsman to grim and comfortless despair. — William Shakespeare Copy Share Image
There’s rosemary, that’s for remembrance; pray, love, remember; and there is pansies, that’s for thoughts... There’s fennel for you, and columbines; there’s… — William Shakespeare Copy Share Image
What early tongue so sweet saluteth me? Young son, it argues a distemper'd head So soon to bid good morrow to thy… — William Shakespeare Copy Share Image
Tis beauty truly blent, whose red and white Nature's own sweet and cunning hand laid on. — William Shakespeare Copy Share Image
O' thinkest thou we shall ever meet again? I doubt it not; and all these woes shall serve For sweet discourses in… — William Shakespeare Copy Share Image
It is thyself, mine own self's better part; Mine eye's clear eye, my dear heart's dearer heart; My food, my fortune, and… — William Shakespeare Copy Share Image
O, a kiss Long as my exile, sweet as my revenge! Now, by the jealous queen of heaven, that kiss I carried… — William Shakespeare Copy Share Image
O Romeo, Romeo! wherefore art thou Romeo? Deny thy father and refuse thy name; Or, if thou wilt not, be but sworn… — William Shakespeare Copy Share Image
So sweet was ne'er so fatal. I must weep. But they are creul tears. This sorrow's heavenly; it strikes where it doth… — William Shakespeare Copy Share Image
Under the greenwood tree, Who loves to lie with me And tune his merry note, Unto the sweet bird's throat; Come hither,… — William Shakespeare Copy Share Image
Passion lends them power, time means to meet, tempering extremities with extremes sweet. — William Shakespeare Copy Share Image
So far be distant; and good night, sweet friend: thy love ne'er alter, till they sweet life end — William Shakespeare Copy Share Image
The lily I condemned for thy hand, And buds of marjoram had stol'n thy hair: The roses fearfully on thorns did stand,… — William Shakespeare Copy Share Image
The setting sun, and the music at the close, As the last taste of sweets, is sweetest last, Writ in rememberance more… — William Shakespeare Copy Share Image
In sweet music is such art, Killing care and grief of heart Fall asleep, or hearing die. — 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
