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I Had Rather Be A Kitten, And Cry Mew, Than One Of These Same Meeter Ballad-mongers: I Had Rather Heare A Brazen Candlestick Turn'd, Or A Dry Wheele Grate On The Axle-tree, And That Would Set My Teeth Nothing An Edge, Nothing So Much, As Mincing Poetrie.

-William Shakespeare

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I Had Rather Be

William Shakespeare

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I Had Rather Be A Kitten, And Cry Mew, Than One Of These Same Meeter Ballad-mongers: I Had Rather Heare A Brazen Candlestick Turn'd, Or A Dry Wheele Grate On The Axle-tree, And That Would Set My Teeth Nothing An Edge, Nothing So Much, As Mincing Poetrie.

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That But This Blow Might Be The Be-all And The End-all Here, But Here, Upon This Bank And Shoal Of Time, We'ld Jump The Life To Come.

In Love The Heavens Themselves Do Guide The State; Money Buys Lands, And Wives Are Sold By Fate.

It Is Not Enough To Speak, But To Speak Truee

Doubting Things Go Ill Often Hurts More Than To Be Sure They Do; For Certainties Either Are Past Remedies, Or, Timely Knowing, The Remedy Then Born.

No Doubt They Rose Up Early To Observe The Rite Of May; And, Hearing Our Intent, Came Here In Grace Of Our Solemnity.

I Sat Upon A Promontory, And Heard A Mermaid, On A Dolphin's Back, Uttering Such Dulcet And Harmonious Breath, That The Rude Sea Grew Civil At Her Song; And Certain Stars Shot Madly From Their Spheres, To Hear The Sea-maid's Music.

I Will Not Be Sworn But Love May Transform Me To An Oyster; But I'll Take My Oath On It, Till He Have Made An Oyster Of Me He Shall Never Make Me Such A Fool.

Sometimes We Are Devils To Ourselves When We Will Tempt The Frailty Of Our Powers, Presuming On Their Changeful Potency.

There's Some Ill Planet Reigns: I Must Be Patient Till The Heavens Look With An Aspect More Favourable.

We Know What We Are, But Know Not What We May Be.

The Thing Of Courage As Rous'd With Rage Doth Sympathise, And, With An Accent Tun'd In Self-same Key, Retorts To Chiding Fortune.

Sweets With Sweets War Not, Joy Delights In Joy.

Death Lies On Her Like An Untimely Frost.

Those That Do Teach Young Babes Do It With Gentle Means And Easy Tasks.

With These Shreds They Vented Their Complainings, Which Being Answered And A Petition Granted Them, A Strange One, To Break The Heart Of Generosity, And Make Bold Power Look Pale, They Threw Their Caps As They Would Hang Them On The Horns O' Th' Moon, Shouting Their Emulation.

The Ides Of March Are Come. Soothsayer: Ay, Caesar; But Not Gone.

He That Commends Me To Mine Own Content Commends Me To The Thing I Cannot Get. I To The World Am Like A Drop Of Water That In The Ocean Seeks Another Drop, Who, Falling There To Find His Fellow Forth, Unseen, Inquisitive, Confounds Himself: So I, To Find A Mother And A Brother, In Quest Of Them, Unhappy, Lose Myself.

When A Gentlemen Is Disposed To Swear, It Is Not For Any Standers-by To Curtail His Oaths.

Did He So Often Lodge In Open Field, In Winter's Cold And Summer's Parching Heat, To Conquer France, His True Inheritance?

If This Were Played Upon A Stage Now, I Could Condemn It As An Improbable Fiction.

Grief Makes One Hour Ten.

Losing A Loved One

This Fell Sergeant, Death, Is Strict In His Arrest.

Things May Serve Long, But Not Serve Ever.

Who Alone Suffers Suffers Most I' Th' Mind, Leaving Free Things And Happy Shows Behind; But Then The Mind Much Sufferance Doth O'erskip When Grief Hath Mates, And Bearing Fellowship.

Well, I Must Be Patient; There Is No Fettering Of Authority.

Rumour: "upon My Tongues Continual Slanders Ride, The Which In Every Language I Pronounce, Stuffing The Ears Of Men With False Reports.

Yet Do I Fear Thy Nature; It Is Too Full O' The Milk Of Human Kindness.

Come Not Within The Measure Of My Wrath.

The King's Name Is A Tower Of Strength.

I Told You, Sir, They Were Red-hot With Drinking; So Full Of Valor That They Smote The Air, For Breathing In Their Faces, Beat The Ground For Kissing Of Their Feet.

Oh God! That One Might Read The Book Of Fate, And See The Revolution Of The Times Make Mountains Level, And The Continent, Weary Of Solid Firmness, Melt Itself Into The Sea.

In Thy Face I See The Map Of Honour, Truth And Loyalty.

Let Me, If Not By Birth, Have Lands By Wit; All With Me's Meet That I Can Fashion Fit.

To Fear The Worst Oft Cures The Worst.

The Quality Of Mercy Is Not Strained

There Is No Terror, Cassius, In Your Threats, For I Am Armed So Strong In Honesty That They Pass By Me As The Idle Wind

Let There Be Gall Enough In Thy Ink, Though Thou Write With A Goose-pen, No Matter.

That Time Of Year Thou Mayst In Me Behold When Yellow Leaves, Or None, Or Few, Do Hang Upon Those Boughs Which Shake Against The Cold, Bare Ruin'd Choirs, Where Late The Sweet Birds Sang. In Me Thou Seest The Twilight Of Such Day, As After Sunset Fadeth In The West, Which By-and-by Black Night Doth Take Away.

People’s Good Deeds We Write In Water. The Evil Deeds Are Etched In Brass.

A Substitute Shines Brightly As A King Until A King Be By, And Then His State Empties Itself, As Dot An Inland Brook Into The Main Of Waters.

Journeys End In Lovers Meeting.

I Am One, My Liege, Whom The Vile Blows And Buffets Of The World Have So Incensed That I Am Reckless What I Do To Spite The World.

It Is Thyself, Mine Own Self's Better Part; Mine Eye's Clear Eye, My Dear Heart's Dearer Heart; My Food, My Fortune, And My Sweet Hope's Aim, My Sole Earth's Heaven, And My Heaven's Claim.

Prosperity's The Very Bond Of Love.

Though Justice Be Thy Plea Consider This, That In The Course Of Justice None Of Us Should See Salvation.

Thou Shalt Not Stir One Foot To Seek A Foe.

But I Am Constant As The Northern Star, Of Whose True Fixed And Resting Quality There Is No Fellow In The Firmament.

Have Patience, And Endure

Age, I Do Abhor Thee, Youth, I Do Adore Thee.

And, If You Love Me, As I Think You Do, Let's Kiss And Part, For We Have Much To Do

A Victory Is Twice Itself When The Achiever Brings Home Full Numbers.

Sit By My Side, And Let The World Slip: We Shall Ne'er Be Younger.

Delay Leads Impotent And Snail-paced Beggary.

Procrastination

Beshrew That Heart That Makes My Heart To Groan For That Deep Wound It Gives My Friend And Me; Is't Not Enough To Torture Me Alone, But Slave To Slavery My Sweet'st Friend Must Be?

Princes Have But Their Titles For Their Glories, An Outward Honor For An Inward Toil; And, For Unfelt Imaginations, They Often Feel A World Of Restless Cares.

It Is The Mind That Makes The Body Rich; And As The Sun Breaks Through The Darkest Clouds, So Honor Peereth In The Meanest Habit.

Eye Of Newt, And Toe Of Frog, Wool Of Bat, And Tongue Of Dog, Adder's Fork, And Blind-worm's Sting, Lizard's Leg, And Owlet's Wing, For A Charm Of Powerful Trouble, Like A Hell-broth Boil And Bubble.

If By Chance I Talk A Little Wild, Forgive Me; I Had It From My Father.

Though She Be But Little, She Is Fierce!

Such Thanks As Fits A King's Remembrance.

Never Durst Poet Touch A Pen To Write Until His Ink Were Temper'd With Love's Sighs.

Bait The Hook Well. This Fish Will Bite.

For Who So Firm That Cannot Be Seduced?

Is It Not Strange That Desire Should So Many Years Outlive Performance?

The Foole Doth Thinke He Is Wise, But The Wiseman Knowes Himselfe To Be A Foole.

They That Touch Pitch Will Be Defiled.

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

Ere I Could Make Thee Open Thy White Hand, And Clap Thyself My Love; Then Didst Thou Utter, I Am Your's For Ever!

Fair Katherine, And Most Fair, Will You Vouchsafe To Teach A Soldier Terms Such As Will Enter At A Lady's Ear, And Plead His Love-suit To Her Gentle Heart?

So Full Of Shapes Is Fancy

O Heaven! Were Man, But Constant, He Were Perfect.

Avaunt, You Cullions!

Nothing In His Life Became Him Like Leaving It.

Bounty, Being Free Itself, Thinks All Others So.

Do Not Plunge Thyself Too Far In Anger.

The Eye Sees All, But The Mind Shows Us What We Want To See.

I Am In Blood Stepp'd In So Far, That, Should I Wade No More, Returning Were As Tedious As Go O'er.

We Must Every One Be A Man Of His Own Fancy.

As I Love The Name Of Honour More Than I Fear Death.

The Web Of Our Life Is Of A Mingled Yarn, Good And Ill Together.

Love Thrives Not In The Heart That Shadows Dreadeth

I Am Sure, Though You Can Guess What Temperance Should Be, You Know Not What It Is.

How Soar Sweet Music Is, When Time Is Broke, And No Proportion Kept!

The Time Of Universal Peace Is Near. Prove This A Prosp'rous Day, The Three-nooked World Shall Bear The Olive Freely.

Some Rise By Sin, And Some By Virtue Fall.

Report Of Fashions In Proud Italy Whose Manners Still Our Tardy-apish Nation Limps After In Base Imitation

Then Come Kiss Me, Sweet And Twenty.

There Is No Slander In An Allowed Fool, Though He Do Nothing But Rail.

Rumour Is A Pipe Blown By Surmises, Jealousies, Conjectures And Of So Easy And So Plain A Stop That The Blunt Monster With Uncounted Heads, The Still-discordant Wavering Multitude, Can Play Upon It.

This Was The Noblest Roman Of Them All. All The Conspirators, Save Only He,did That They Did In Envy Of Caesar;he Only, In A General Honest Thoughtand Common Good To All, Made One Of Them. His Life Was Gentle, And The Elementsso Mixd In Him That Nature Might Stand Upand Say To All The World, This Was A Man!

While Thou Livest Keep A Good Tongue In Thy Head.

Tis Ever Common That Men Are Merriest When They Are From Home.

Thou Know'st 'tis Common; All That Lives Must Die, Passing Through Nature To Eternity.

The Devil Can Cite Scripture For His Purpose.

The Pleasant'st Angling Is To See The Fish Cut With Her Golden Oars The Silver Stream And Greedily Devour The Treacherous Bait.

Write Till Your Ink Be Dry, And With Your Tears Moist It Again, And Frame Some Feeling Line That May Discover Such Integrity.

Modest Wisdom Plucks Me From Over-credulous Haste.

Love Like A Shadow Flies When Substance Love Pursues Pursuing That That Flies, And Flying What Pursues.

My Endeavors Have Ever Come Too Short Of My Desires. Yet Filed With My Abilities.

And Thou, All-shaking Thunder, Strike Flat The Thick Rotundity O' The World! Crack Nature's Moulds, All Germens Spill At Once That Makes Ingrateful Man!

Discuss Unto Me: Art Thou Officer, Or Art Thou Base, Common, And Popular?

Leonato Well, Niece, I Hope To See You One Day Fitted With A Husband. Beatrice Not Till God Make Men Of Some Other Metal Than Earth. Would It Not Grieve A Woman To Be Overmastered With A Pierce Of Valiant Dust? To Make An Account Of Her Life To A Clod Of Wayward Marl? No, Uncle, I'll None: Adam's Sons Are My Brethren; And, Truly, I Hold It A Sin To Match In My Kindred.

The Sweetest Honey Is Loathsome In His Own Deliciousness.

Romeo And Juliet Love

Be Advised; Heat Not A Furnace For Your Foe So Hot That It Do Singe Yourself: We May Outrun, By Violent Swiftness, That Which We Run At, And Lose By Over-running. Know You Not, The Fire That Mounts The Liquor Til Run O'er, In Seeming To Augment It Wastes It?

Shine Out Fair Sun, Till I Have Bought A Glass, That I May See My Shadow As I Pass.

We Bring Forth Weeds When Our Quick Minds Lie Still.

Love Is A Smoke Rais'd With The Fume Of Sighs; Being Purg'd, A Fire Sparkling In Lovers' Eyes; Being Vex'd, A Sea Nourish'd With Lovers' Tears; What Is It Else? A Madness Most Discreet, A Choking Gall, And A Preserving Sweet.

For Now They Kill Me With A Living Death.

O, Train Me Not, Sweet Mermaid, With Thy Note, To Drown Me In Thy Sister’s Flood Of Tears.

He That Is Thy Friend Indeed, He Will Help You In Your Need.

Lovers And Madmen Have Such Seething Brains Such Shaping Fantasies, That Apprehend More Than Cool Reason Ever Comprehends.

Whatever Praises Itself But In The Deed, Devours The Deed In The Praise.

Vanity And Pride

When I Have Seen By Time's Fell Hand Defaced The Rich Proud Cost Of Outworn Buried Age; When Sometime Lofty Towers I See Down-razed And Brass Eternal Slave To Mortal Rage; When I Have Seen The Hungry Ocean Gain Advantage On The Kingdom Of The Shore, And The Firm Soil Win Of The Watery Main, Increasing Store With Loss And Loss With Store; When I Have Seen Such Interchange Of State, Or State Itself Confounded To Decay; Ruin Hath Taught Me Thus To Ruminate, That Time Will Come And Take My Love Away. This Thought Is As A Death Which Cannot Choose But Weep To Have That Which It Fears To Lose.

Let Me Say Amen Betimes Lest The Devil Cross My Prayer, For Here He Comes In The Likeness Of A Jew.

How Strange Or Odd Some'er I Bear Myself, As I Perchance Hereafter Shall Think Meet To Put An Antic Disposition On.

The Summer's Flower Is To The Summer Sweet Though To Itself It Only Live And Die

Tis Time To Fear When Tyrants Seem To Kiss.

Awake, Awake, English Nobility! Let Not Sloth Dim Your Horrors New-begot.

Make Less Thy Body Hence, And More Thy Grace. Leave Gormandizing.

To Be Generous, Guiltless, And Of A Free Disposition Is To Take Those Things For Bird-bolts That You Deem Cannon-bullets.

Greatness Knows Itself.

You Undergo Too Strict A Paradox, Striving To Make An Ugly Deed Look Fair.

O, How Shall Summer's Honey Breath Hold Out Against The Wreckful Siege Of Battering Days, When Rocks Impregnable Are Not So Stout, Nor Gates Of Steel So Strong, But Time Decays?

Oh, She Doth Teach The Torches To Burn Bright! It Seems She Hangs Upon The Cheek Of Night Like A Rich Jewel In An Ethiope’s Ear, Beauty Too Rich For Use, For Earth Too Dear. So Shows A Snowy Dove Trooping With Crows As Yonder Lady O'er Her Fellows Shows. The Measure Done, I’ll Watch Her Place Of Stand, And, Touching Hers, Make Blessèd My Rude Hand. Did My Heart Love Till Now? Forswear It, Sight! For I Ne'er Saw True Beauty Till This Night.

I Am Ill At These Numbers.

Would It Not Grieve A Woman To Be Over-mastered By A Piece Of Valiant Dust? To Make An Account Of Her Life To A Clod Of Wayward Marle?

This Is The Third Time; I Hope Good Luck Lies In Odd Numbers. Away; Go. They Say There Is Divinity In Odd Numbers, Either In Nativity, Chance, Or Death.

With Caution Judge Of Probability. Things Deemed Unlikely, E'en Impossible, Experience Oft Hath Proved To Be True.

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 Delight, Drawn After You, You Pattern Of All Those.

I Had Rather Be A Kitten And Cry Mew Than One Of These Same Metre Ballet-mongers.

Sorrow Breaks Seasons And Reposing Hours, Makes The Night Morning, And The Noontide Night.

Believe Then, If You Please, That I Can Do Strange Things. [act 5, Scene 2]

Between The Acting Of A Dreadful Thing And The First Motion, All The Interim Is Like A Phantasma Or A Hideous Dream.

Then Is It Sin To Rush Into The Secret House Of Death. Ere Death Dare Come To Us?

No Sooner Met But They Looked; No Sooner Looked But They Loved; No Sooner Loved But They Sighed; No Sooner Sighed But They Asked One Another The Reason; No Sooner Knew The Reason But They Sought The Remedy; And In These Degrees Have They Made A Pair Of Stairs To Marriage.

Dissembling Courtesy! How Fine This Tyrant Can Trickle When She Wounds!

O Madam, My Old Heart Is Cracked, It's Cracked!

They Say, The Tongues Of Dying Men Enforce Attention, Like Deep Harmony; Where Words Are Scarce, They're Seldom Spent In Vain; For They Breathe Truth, That Breathe Their Words In Pain.

We Waste Our Lights In Vain, Like Lamps By Day.

The Miserable Have No Other Medicine But Only Hope.

You Know Who You Are, But Know Not Who You Could Be.

Greatness, Once Fallen Out With Fortune, Must Fall Out With Men Too.

O God, I Could Be Bound In A Nutshell, And Count Myself A King Of Infinite Space – Were It Not That I Have Bad Dreams.

This World To Me Is Like A Lasting Storm,whirring Me From My Friends.

What Is Your Substance, Whereof Are You Made, That Millions Of Strange Shadows On You Tend? Since Everyone Hath Every One, One Shade, And You, But One, Can Every Shadow Lend. Describe Adonis, And The Counterfeit Is Poorly Imitated After You. On Helen’s Cheek All Art Of Beauty Set, And You In Grecian Tires Are Painted New. Speak Of The Spring And Foison Of The Year; The One Doth Shadow Of Your Beauty Show, The Other As Your Bounty Doth Appear, And You In Every Blessèd Shape We Know. In All External Grace You Have Some Part, But You Like None, None You, For Constant Heart.

Then Will I Raise Aloft The Milk-white Rose. For Whose Sweet Smell The Air Shall Be Perfumed.

Not An Angel Of The Air, Bird Melodious Or Bird Fair, Be Absent Hence!

Hang Those That Talk Of Fear.

It Is A Wise Father That Knows His Own Child.

The Iron Tongue Of Midnight Hath Told Twelve Lovers, To Bed; 'tis Almost Fairy Time. I Fear We Shall Outstep The Coming Morn As Much As We This Night Over-watch'd.

The Setting Sun, And The Music At The Close, As The Last Taste Of Sweets, Is Sweetest Last, Writ In Rememberance More Than Long Things Past.

To Fear The Foe, Since Fear Oppresseth Strength, Gives In Your Weakness Strength Unto Your Foe.

What Drink'st Thou Oft, Instead Of Homage Sweet, But Poisoned Flattery?

Ask Me No Reason Why I Love You; For Though Love Use Reason For His Physician, He Admits Him Not For His Counsellor.

When A Man's Verses Cannot Be Understood, Nor A Man's Good Wit Seconded With The Forward Child Understanding, It Strikes A Man More Dead Than A Great Reckoning In A Little Room. Truly, I Would The Gods Had Made Thee Poetical.

Virtue Is Bold, And Goodness Never Fearful.

Petruchio: Come, Come, You Wasp; I' Faith, You Are Too Angry. Katherine: If I Be Waspish, Best Beware My Sting. Petruchio: My Remedy Is Then, To Pluck It Out. Katherine: Ay, If The Fool Could Find Where It Lies. Petruchio: Who Knows Not Where A Wasp Does Wear His Sting? In His Tail. Katherine: In His Tongue. Petruchio: Whose Tongue? Katherine: Yours, If You Talk Of Tails: And So Farewell. Petruchio: What, With My Tongue In Your Tail? Nay, Come Again, Good Kate; I Am A Gentleman.

Modest Doubt Is Called The Beacon Of The Wise.

To Say The Truth, So Judas Kissed His Master And Cried, 'all Hail!' When As He Meant All Harm.

Crabbed Age And Youth Cannot Live Together; Youth Is Full Of Pleasure, Age Is Full Of Care; Youth Like Summer Morn, Age Like Winter Weather; Youth Like Summer Brave, Age Like Winter Bare. Youth Is Full Sport, Age's Breath Is Short; Youth Is Nimble, Age Is Lame; Youth Is Hot And Bold, Age Is Weak And Cold; Youth Is Wild, Age Is Tame. Age, I Do Abhor Thee; Youth, I Do Adore Thee.

Many That Are Not Mad Have, Sure, More Lack Of Reason.

And Fearless Minds Climb Soonest Unto Crowns.

Hardness Ever Of Hardness Is Mother.

I Had Rather Hear My Dog Bark At A Crow, Than A Man Swear He Loves Me.

Patch Up Thine Old Body For Heaven.

Happy Are They That Hear Their Detractions, And Can Put Them To Mending.

Some Say That Ever 'gainst The Season Comes Wherein Our Saviour's Birth Is Celebrated, The Bird Of Dawning Singeth All Night Long: And Then, They Say, No Spirit Can Walk Abroad; The Nights Are Wholesome; Then No Planets Strike, No Fairy Takes, Nor Wi

Out Of My Sight! Thou Dost Infect Mine Eyes.

I Say There Is No Darkness But Ignorance.

Keep Time! How Sour Sweet Music Is When Time Is Broke And No Proportion Kept! So Is It In The Music Of Men's Lives. I Wasted Time And Now Doth Time Waste Me.

From Women's Eyes This Doctrine I Derive: They Sparkle Still The Right Promethean Fire; They Are The Books, The Arts, The Academes, That Show, Contain And Nourish All The World.

Hung Be The Heavens With Black! Yield, Day, To Night!

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

Good Hamlet, Cast Thy Nighted Colour Off ... Do Not For Ever With Thy Vailed Lids Seek For Thy Noble Father In The Dust.

When Rich Villains Have Need Of Poor Ones, Poor Ones May Make What Price They Will

The Seasons Alter: Hoary-headed Frosts Fall In The Fresh Lap Of The Crimson Rose, And On Old Hiems' Thin And Icy Crown An Odorous Chaplet Of Sweet Summer Buds Is, As In Mockery, Set. The Spring, The Summer, The Childing Autumn, Angry Winter, Change Their Wonted Liveries, And The Mazed World, By Their Increase, Now Knows Not Which Is Which.

This Cold Night Will Turn Us All To Fools And Madmen.

There's Never A Villain Dwelling In All Denmark But He's An Arrant Knave.

Good Fortune Then! To Make Me Blest Or Cursed'st Among Men.

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

To You Your Father Should Be As A God; One That Composed Your Beauties, Yea, And One To Whom You Are But As A Form In Wax, By Him Imprinted, And Within His Power To Leave The Figure Or Disfigure It.

We Make Guilty Of Our Disasters The Sun, The Moon, And The Stars; As If We Were Villians By Compulsion.

Now The Melancholy God Protect Thee, And The Tailor Make Thy Garments Of Changeable Taffeta, For Thy Mind Is Opal.

When Lenity And Cruelty Play For A Kingdom, The Gentler Gamester Is The Soonest Winner

Beauty Within Itself Should Not Be Wasted.

Beauty's A Doubtful Good, A Glass, A Flower, Lost, Faded, Broken, Dead Within An Hour; And Beauty, Blemish'd Once, For Ever's Lost, In Spite Of Physic, Painting, Pain, And Cost.

A Heaven On Earth I Have Won By Wooing Thee.

I Had Rather Be A Toad, And Live Upon The Vapor Of A Dungeon Than Keep A Corner In The Thing I Love For Others Uses.

What Time Hath Scanted Men In Hair, He Hath Given Them In Wit.

Is This A Vision? Is This A Dream? Do I Sleep?

Lions Make Leopards Tame.

He Hath Eaten Me Out Of House And Home.

Done To Death By Slanderous Tongue

Memory, The Warder Of The Brain.

I Will Do Anything, Nerissa, Ere I'll Be Married To A Sponge.

Life's But A Walking Shadow, A Poor Player, That Struts And Frets His Hour Upon The Stage, And Then Is Heard No More; It Is A Tale Told By An Idiot, Full Of Sound And Fury, Signifying Nothing.

Put Forth Thy Hand, Reach At The Glorious Gold.

Summer's Lease Hath All Too Short A Date.

To Me, Fair Friend, You Never Can Be Old, For As You Were When First Your Eye I Eyed, Such Seems Your Beauty Still. Three Winters Cold Have From The Forests Shook Three Summers' Pride, Three Beauteous Springs To Yellow Autumn Turn'd In Process Of The Seasons Have I Seen, Three April Perfumes In Three Hot Junes Burn'd, Since First I Saw You Fresh, Which Yet Are Green.

We Cannot Fight For Love, As Men May Do; We Shou'd Be Woo'd, And Were Not Made To Woo

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