Is man no more than this? Consider him well. Thou ow'st the worm no silk, the beast no hide, the sheep no wool, the cat no perfume. Here's three on's are sophisticated. Thou art the thing itself; unaccommodated man is no more than such a poor, bare, forked animal as thou art.
It were a grief so brief to part with thee. Farewell.
We came into the world like brother and brother, And now let's go hand in hand, not one before another.
O Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou Romeo? Deny thy father refuse thy name, thou art thyself thou not a montegue, what is montegue? tis nor hand nor foot nor any other part belonging to a man What is in a name? That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet, So Romeo would were he n
love is blind and lovers cannot see the pretty follies that themselves commit
Words, vows, gifts, tears, and love's full sacrifice, He offers in another's enterprise; But more in Troilus thousand-fold I see Than in the glass of Pandar's praise may be, Yet hold I off.
Yet nor the lays of birds nor the sweet smell Of different flowers in odour and in hue Could make me any summer's story tell, Or from their proud lap pluck them where they grew; Nor did I wonder at the lily's white, Nor praise the deep vermilion in the rose; They were but sweet, but figures of delig
I like not fair terms and a villain's mind. William Shakesp
Charity itself fulfills the law. And who can sever love from charity?
Good wombs have borne bad sons." -- (Miranda, I:2)
Be merry; you have cause, so have we all, of joy; for our escape is much beyond our loss . . . . then wisely weigh our sorrow with our comfort.
Love comforteth like sunshine after rain. Doubt thou the stars are fire; doubt that the sun doth move; doubt truth to be a liar; but never doubt I love you. I love thee, I love but thee with a love that shall not die. Till the sun grows cold and the stars grow old.
Love is blind, it stops lovers seeing the silly things they do.
Like as the waves make towards the pebbl'd shore, so do our minutes, hasten to their end. William Shakespear
Show me a mistress that is passing fair, what doth her beauty serve but as a note where I may read who pass'd that passing fair?
You are my true and honourable wife;As dear to me as the ruddy dropsThat visit my sad heart.
Speak comfortable words.
And where the offense is, let the great axe fall.
Grief hath two tongues; and never woman yetCould rule them both without ten women's wit.
A friend should bear his friend's infirmities.
Sweets to the sweet.
Strong reasons make strong actions.
Time, whose millioned accidents creep in betwixt vows, and change decrees of kings, tan sacred beauty, blunt the sharpest intents, divert strong minds to the course of altering things.
The inaudible and noiseless foot of Time.
But when I came, alas, to wive, With hey, ho, the wind and the rain, By swaggering could I never thrive, For the rain it raineth every day.
To sue to live, I find I seek to die; And, seeking death, find life: let it come on.
Present fears are less than horrible imaginings.
Some sins do bear their privilege on earth,And so doth yours: your fault was not your folly;Needs must you lay your heart at his dispose,Subjected tribute to commanding love,Against whose fury and unmatched forceThe aweless lion could not wage the fightNor keep his princely heart from Richard's hand
Lady, you are the cruel'st she alive If you will lead these graces to the grave And leave the world no copy.
As soon go kindle fire with snow, as seek to quench the fire of love with words. William Shakespear