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But, Soft! What Light Through Yonder Window Breaks? It Is The East, And Juliet Is The Sun. Arise, Fair Sun, And Kill The Envious Moon, Who Is Already Sick And Pale With Grief, That Thou, Her Maid, Art Far More Fair Than She. Be Not Her Maid, Since She Is Envious; Her Vestal Livery Is But Sick And Green And None But Fools Do Wear It; Cast It Off. It Is My Lady, O, It Is My Love! Oh, That She Knew She Were!

-William Shakespeare

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But, Soft! What Light

William Shakespeare

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But, Soft! What Light Through Yonder Window Breaks? It Is The East, And Juliet Is The Sun. Arise, Fair Sun, And Kill The Envious Moon, Who Is Already Sick And Pale With Grief, That Thou, Her Maid, Art Far More Fair Than She. Be Not Her Maid, Since She Is Envious; Her Vestal Livery Is But Sick And Green And None But Fools Do Wear It; Cast It Off. It Is My Lady, O, It Is My Love! Oh, That She Knew She Were!

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Therefore I Tell My Sorrows To The Stones; Who, Though They Cannot Answer My Distress, Yet In Some Sort They Are Better Than The Tribunes, For That They Will Not Intercept My Tale: When I Do Weep, They Humbly At My Feet Receive My Tears And Seem To Weep With Me; And, Were They But Attired In Grave Weeds, Rome Could Afford No Tribune Like To These.

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Every Subject's Duty Is The Kings, But Every Subject's Soul Is His Own.

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Thou Art A Very Ragged Wart.

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Tis But A Base, Ignoble Mind That Mounts No Higher Than A Bird Can Soar.

Why, What's The Matter, That You Have Such A February Face, So Full Of Frost, Of Storm And Cloudiness?

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This Thing Of Darkness I Acknowledge Mine.

Have I Caught Thee, My Heavenly Jewel? Why, Now Let Me Die, For I Have Lived Long Enough.

Our Holy Lives Must Win A New World's Crown.

For Honesty Coupled To Beauty, Is To Have Honey A Sauce To Sugar.

Were It Good To Set The Exact Wealth Of All Our States All At One Cast? To Set So Rich A Main On The Nice Hazard Of One Doubtful Hour? It Were Not Good.

You Shall More Command With Years Than With Your Weapons.

There Is Nothing But Roguery To Be Found In Villainous Men.

Thy Wit Is A Very Bitter Sweeting; It Is A Most Sharp Sauce.

Nothing 'gainst Times Scythe Can Make Defence.

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She Shall Scant Show Well That Now Shows Best.

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Now Is The Winter Of Our Discontent.

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Written Language

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Cease Thy Counsel, For Thy Words Fall Into My Ears As Priceless As Water Into A Seive.

The Will Is Deaf And Hears No Heedful Friends.

The Deep Of Night Is Crept Upon Our Talk, And Nature Must Obey Necessity.

A Happy Ending Cannot Come In The Middle Of The Story

Love Looks Not With The Eyes, But With The Mind, And Therefore Is Winged Cupid Painted Blind.

What Light Through Yonder Window Breaks?

Much Rain Wears The Marble.

My Love's More Richer Than My Tongue.

We Must Love Men, Ere To Us They Will Seem Worthy Of Our Love.

Things Sweet To Taste Prove In Digestion Sour.

Superfluity Comes Sooner By White Hairs, But Competency Lives Longer.

An Honest Tale Speeds Best Being Plainly Told.

I Wish My Horse Had The Speed Of Your Tongue.

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There's Such Divinity Doth Hedge A King That Treason Can But Peep To What It Would.

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To Mingle Friendship Far Is Mingling Bloods.

Who Is Here So Vile That Will Not Love His Country?

I Rather Would Entreat Thy Company; To See The Wonders Of The World Abroad, Than, Living Dully Sluggardized At Home, Wear Out Thy Youth With Shapeless Idleness.

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If Music Be The Food Of Love, Play On, Give Me Excess Of It; That Surfeiting, The Appetite May Sicken, And So Die.

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Absence From Those We Love Is Self From Self - A Deadly Banishment.

Even Through The Hollow Eyes Of Death I Spy Life Peering.

Determine On Some Course More Than A Wild Exposure To Each Chance.

All's Well If All Ends Well.

Most Friendship Is Feigning, Most Loving Mere Folly.

Assume A Virtue, If You Have It Not. That Monster, Custom, Who All Sense Doth Eat, Of Habits Devil, Is Angel Yet In This, That To The Use Of Actions Fair And Good He Likewise Gives A Frock Or Livery That Aptly Is Put On. Refrain Tonight, And That Shall Lend A Kind Of Easiness To The Next Abstinence; The Next More Easy; For Use Almost Can Change The Stamp Of Nature.

Temptation: The Fiend At My Elbow.

When A Wise Man Gives Thee Better Counsel, Give Me Mine Again.

Let Me Confess That We Two Must Be Twain, Although Our Undivided Loves Are One.

Thy Head Is As Full Of Quarrels As An Egg Is Full Of Meat, And Yet Thy Head Hath Been Beaten As Addle As An Egg For Quarrelling.

In The Modesty Of Fearful Duty, I Read As Much As From The Rattling Tongue Of Saucy And Audacious Eloquence.

The Good I Stand On Is My Truth And Honesty.

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Beware The Leader Who Bangs The Drums Of War In Order To Whip The Citizenry Into A Patriotic Fervor.

Good Lord, For Alliance! Thus Goes Every One To The World But I, And I Am Sunburnt; I May Sit In A Corner And Cry Heigh-ho For A Husband!

He That Sleeps Feels Not The Tooth-ache

But Miserable Most, To Love Unloved? This You Should Pity Rather Than Despise

Death Is My Son-in-law. Death Is My Heir. My Daughter He Hath Wedded. I Will Die, And Leave Him All. Life, Living, All Is Death’s.

For God's Sake, Let Us Sit Upon The Ground, And Tell Sad Stories Of The Death Of Kings... All Murdered; For Within The Hollow Crown That Rounds The Mortal Temples Of A King, Keeps Death His Court... And With A Little Pin Bores Through His Castle Wall, And Farewell King!

All Surfeit Is The Father Of Much Fast.

Measure For Measure

I, Measuring His Affections By My Own, Which Then Most Sought Where Most Might Not Be Found, Being One Too Many By My Weary Self, Pursued My Humor Not Pursuing His, And Gladly Shunned Who Gladly Fled From Me.

Bear With My Weakness. My Old Brain Is Troubled. Be Not Disturbed With My Infirmity.

I Hold Him But A Fool That Will Endanger His Body For A Girl That Loves Him Not.

O! For A Muse Of Fire, That Would Ascend The Brightest Heaven Of Invention.

But Men Are Men; The Best Sometimes Forget.

I Have No Way And Therefore Want No Eyes I Stumbled When I Saw. Full Oft 'tis Seen Our Means Secure Us, And Our Mere Defects Prove Our Commodities.

Fear And Niceness, The Handmaids Of All Women, Or More Truly, Woman Its Pretty Self.

Thou Art A Boil, A Plague Sore, An Embossed Carbuncle In My Corrupted Blood.

He That Hath The Steerage Of My Course, Direct My Sail.

We May Outrun By Violent Swiftness And Lose By Over-running.

As Love Is Full Of Unbefitting Strains, All Wanton As A Child, Skipping And Vain, Form'd By The Eye And Therefore, Like The Eye, Full Of Strange Shapes, Of Habits And Of Forms, Varying In Subjects As The Eye Doth Roll To Every Varied Object In His Glance

Men At Some Time Are Masters Of Their Fates. The Fault, Dear Brutus, Is Not In Our Stars, But In Ourselves, That We Are Underlings.

Too Early Seen Unknown, And Known Too Late!

O God Of Battles! Steel My Soldiers’ Hearts. Possess Them Not With Fear.

Past And To Come, Seems Best; Things Present, Worse.

Like A Dull Actor Now, I Have Forgot My Part, And I Am Out, Even To A Full Disgrace.

Woe To That Land That's Governed By A Child.

Every Thing That Grows / Holds In Perfection But A Little Moment.

Wait For The Season When To Cast Good Counsels Upon Subsiding Passion.

Let Us Not Burden Our Remembrances With A Heaviness That's Gone.

He That Loves To Be Flattered Is Worthy O' The Flatterer.

How Ill White Hairs Become A Fool And Jester!

To Die, To Sleep - To Sleep, Perchance To Dream - Ay, There's The Rub, For In This Sleep Of Death What Dreams May Come.

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.

It Is A Familiar Beast To Man, And Signifies Love.

Devoutly To Be Wish'd. To Die, To Sleep; To Sleep, Perchance To Dream—for In That Sleep Of Death What Dreams May Come,when We Have Shuffled Off This Mortal Coil, Must Give Us Pause, There's The Respect, That Makes Calamity Of So Long Life

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Silence Is Only Commendable In A Neat's Tongue Dried, And A Maid Not Vendible.

Is She Kind As She Is Fair?

Taffeta Phrases, Silken Terms Precise, Three-piled Hyperboles, Spruce Affection, Figures Pedantical--these Summer Flies Have Blown Me Full Of Maggot Ostentation.

Enjoy The Honey-heavy Dew Of Slumber.

Weep Not, Sweet Queen, For Trickling Tears Are Vain.

In Truth, Fair Montague, I Am Too Fond.

Romeo And Juliet Love

I Am Not Of That Feather, To Shake Off My Friend When He Must Need Me

Gently To Hear, Kindly To Judge.

If You Can Look Into The Seeds Of Time, And Say Which Grain Will Grow And Which Will Not, Speak Then Unto Me.

Jesters Do Oft Prove Prophets.

I Beseech You, Wrest Once The Law To Your Authority: To Do A Great Right, Do A Little Wrong.

I Am Asham'd That Women Are So Simple To Offer War Where They Should Kneel For Peace.

The Eagle Suffers Little Birds To Sing.

As In A Theatre, The Eyes Of Men, After A Well-graced Actor Leaves The Stage, Are Idly Bent On Him That Enters Next.

Can You Nominate In Order Now The Degrees Of The Lie? I Will Name You The Degrees. The First, The Retort Courteous; The Second, The Quip Modest; The Third, The Reply Churlish; The Fourth, The Reproof Valiant; The Fifth; The Countercheck Quarrelsome; The Sixth, The Lie With Circumstance; The Seventh, The Lie Direct. All These You May Avoid But The Lie Direct; And You May Avoid That Too, With An If. . . . Your If Is The Only Peace-maker; Much Virtue In If.

My Liege, And Madam, To Expostulate What Majesty Should Be, What Duty Is, Why Day Is Day, Night Night, And Time Is Time, Were Nothing But To Waste Night, Day And Time. Therefore, Since Brevity Is The Soul Of Wit, And Tediousness The Limbs And Outward Flourishes, I Will Be Brief.

For I Am He Am Born To Tame You, Kate; And Bring You From A Wild Kate To A Kate Conformable As Other Household Kates.

Still Constant Is A Wondrous Excellence.

The Dullness Of The Fool Is The Whetstone Of The Wits.

Many Dream Not To Find, Neither Deserve, And Yet Are Steeped In Favors.

Here Was A Caesar! When Comes Such Another?

I Understand Thy Kisses, And Thou Mine, And That's A Feeling Disputation.

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I Have Supped Full With Horrors.

Hardness Ever Of Hardness Is Mother.

Where I Could Not Be Honest, I Never Yet Was Valiant.

I Can No Other Answer Make, But, Thanks, And Thanks.

I Do Begin To Have Bloody Thoughts.

On Rumor's Tongue Continual Slanders Ride.

The King's Name Is A Tower Of Strength.

There Was A Star Danced, And Under That Was I Born.

Come, Lady, Die To Live.

Love All, Trust A Few, Do Wrong To None.

He That Is Truly Dedicated To War Hath No Self-love

Words Without Thoughts Never To Heaven Go.

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No Villainous Bounty Yet Hath Passed My Heart; Unwisely, Not Ignobly, Have I Given.

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