For sweetest things turn sourest by their deeds; Lillies that fester smell far worse than weeds. — William Shakespeare Copy Share Image
The sweetest honey is loathsome in its own deliciousness. And in the taste destroys the appetite. Therefore, love moderately. — William Shakespeare Copy Share Image
Her blood is settled, and her joints are stiff; Life and these lips have long been separated: Death lies on her like… — 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
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
The summer's flow'r is to the summer sweet, Though to itself it only live and die' But if that flow'r with base… — William Shakespeare Copy Share Image
These violent delights have violent ends And in their triumph die, like fire and powder, Which as they kiss consume. The sweetest… — William Shakespeare Copy Share Image
O sleep! O gentle sleep! Nature's soft nurse, how have I frighted thee, That thou no more wilt weigh my eyelids down… — William Shakespeare Copy Share Image
The sweetest honey Is loathsome in his own deliciousness, And in the taste confounds the appetite: Therefore love moderately— long love doth… — William Shakespeare Copy Share Image
That thou art blamed shall not be thy defect, For slander's mark was ever yet the fair; The ornament of beauty is… — William Shakespeare Copy Share Image
Yet writers say, as in the sweetest bud The eating canter dwells, so eating love Inhabits in the finest wits of all. — William Shakespeare Copy Share Image
For as a surfeit of the sweetest things The deepest loathing to the stomach brings, Or as tie heresies that men do… — William Shakespeare Copy Share Image
O, but they say, the tongues of dying men enforce attention, like deep harmony: where words are scarce, they are seldom spent… — 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
