The lowest ebb is the turn of the tide. Henry Wadsworth Longfellow We are such stuff as dreams are made of. — William Shakespeare Copy Share Image
Oh! that you could turn your eyes towards the napes of your necks, and make but an interior survey of your good… — William Shakespeare Copy Share Image
Coal-black is better than another hue In that it scorns to bear another hue; For all the water in the ocean Can… — William Shakespeare Copy Share Image
To me, fair friend, you never can be old, For as you were when first your eye I eyed, Such seems your… — William Shakespeare Copy Share Image
But 'tis common proof, that lowliness is young ambition's ladder, whereto the climber-upward turns his face; but when he once attains the… — William Shakespeare Copy Share Image
“All things that we ordained festival, Turn from their office to black funeral; Our instruments to melancholy bells, Our wedding cheer to… — William Shakespeare Copy Share Image
But love that comes too late, Like a remorseful pardon slowly carried, To the great sender turns a sour offense, Crying, 'That's… — William Shakespeare Copy Share Image
Virtue itself turns vice, being misapplied, And vice sometime by action dignified. — William Shakespeare Copy Share Image
Good with out evil is like light with out darkness which in turn is like righteousness whith out hope. — William Shakespeare Copy Share Image
And it is very much lamented,... That you have no such mirrors as will turn Your hidden worthiness into your eye That… — William Shakespeare Copy Share Image
So will I turn her virtue into pitch, And out of her own goodness make the net That shall enmesh them all. — 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
