For the poor wren (The most diminutive of birds) will fight, Her young ones in her nest, against the owl. — William Shakespeare Copy Share Image
The crow doth sing as sweetly as the lark When neither is attended; and I think The nightingale, if she should sing… — William Shakespeare Copy Share Image
The world is grown so bad, That wrens make prey where eagles dare not perch. — William Shakespeare Copy Share Image
Die for adultery! No: The wren goes to't, and the small gilded fly does lecher in my sight — 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
