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Thine Eyes I Love, And They, As Pitying Me, Knowing Thy Heart Torment Me With Disdain, Have Put On Black And Loving Mourners Be, Looking With Pretty Ruth Upon My Pain. And Truly Not The Morning Sun Of Heaven Better Becomes The Grey Cheeks Of The East, Nor That Full Star That Ushers In The Even, Doth Half That Glory To The Sober West, As Those Two Mourning Eyes Become Thy Face: O! Let It Then As Well Beseem Thy Heart To Mourn For Me Since Mourning Doth Thee Grace, And Suit Thy Pity Like In Every Part. Then Will I Swear Beauty Herself Is Black, And All They Foul That Thy Complexion Lack

-William Shakespeare

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Thine Eyes I Love,

William Shakespeare

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Thine Eyes I Love, And They, As Pitying Me, Knowing Thy Heart Torment Me With Disdain, Have Put On Black And Loving Mourners Be, Looking With Pretty Ruth Upon My Pain. And Truly Not The Morning Sun Of Heaven Better Becomes The Grey Cheeks Of The East, Nor That Full Star That Ushers In The Even, Doth Half That Glory To The Sober West, As Those Two Mourning Eyes Become Thy Face: O! Let It Then As Well Beseem Thy Heart To Mourn For Me Since Mourning Doth Thee Grace, And Suit Thy Pity Like In Every Part. Then Will I Swear Beauty Herself Is Black, And All They Foul That Thy Complexion Lack

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The Words Of Mercury Are Harsh After The Songs Of Apollo.

There Is A World Elsewhere.

No Beast So Fierce But Knows Some Touch Of Pity. But I Know None, And Therefore Am No Beast.

How Now, Wit! Whither Wander You?

A Peace Is Of The Nature Of A Conquest; For Then Both Parties Nobly Are Subdued, And Neither Party Loser.

And Blind Oblivion Swallowed Cities Up.

He's Mad That Trusts In The Tameness Of A Wolf.

My Heart Is Ever At Your Service.

Violent Fires Soon Burn Out Themselves, Small Showers Last Long, But Sudden Storms Are Short; He Tires Betimes That Spurs Too Fast.

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

I Can Easier Teach Twenty What Were Good To Be Done, Than Be One Of The Twenty To Follow Mine Own Teaching.

So Shalt Thou Feed On Death, That Feeds On Men.

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Virtue's Office Never Breaks Men's Troth.

Oh, I Have Passed A Miserable Night, So Full Of Ugly Sights, Of Ghastly Dreams!

We Are Such Stuff As Dreams Are Made On; And Our Little Life Is Rounded With A Sleep.

O, Had I But Followed The Arts!

If To Do Were As Easy As To Know What Were Good To Do, Chapels Had Been Churches, And Poor Men's Cottage Princes' Palaces.

Affliction Is Enamoured Of Thy Parts, And Thou Art Wedded To Calamity.

And Why Not Death Rather Than Living Torment? To Die Is To Be Banish'd From Myself; And Silvia Is Myself: Banish'd From Her Is Self From Self: A Deadly Banishment!

Guiltiness Will Speak, Though Tongues Were Out Of Use

Nature, As It Grows Again Toward Earth, Is Fashioned For The Journey, Dull And Heavy.

I Have Very Poor And Unhappy Brains For Drinking: I Could Well Wish Courtesy Would Invent Some Other Custom Of Entertainment.

Die For Adultery! No: The Wren Goes To't, And The Small Gilded Fly Does Lecher In My Sight

We Must Not Stint Our Necessary Actions In The Fear To Cope Malicious Censurers, Which Ever, As Rav'nous Fishes, Do A Vessel Follow That Is New-trimmed, But Benefit No Further Than Vainly Longing.

A Hand As Fruitful As The Land That Feeds Us; His Dew Falls Everywhere.

I Have Lived Long Enough. My Way Of Life Is To Fall Into The Sere, The Yellow Leaf, And That Which Should Accompany Old Age, As Honor, Love, Obedience, Troops Of Friends I Must Not Look To Have.

It Is The Bright Day That Brings Forth The Adder, And That Craves Wary Walking.

Things Are Often Spoke And Seldom Meant.

He Is Dead And Gone, Lady, He Is Dead And Gone; At His Head A Grass-green Turf, At His Heels A Stone.

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Good Words Are Better Than Bad Strokes.

Fairies Use Flowers For Their Charactery.

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?

There Are More Things In Heaven And Earth, Horatio, Than Are Dreamt Of In Your Philosophy.

O Death, Made Proud With Pure And Princely Beauty!

He That Plays The King Shall Be Welcome- His Majesty Shall Have Tribute Of Me; The Adventurous Knight Shall Use His Foil And Target; The Lover Shall Not Sigh Gratis; The Humorous Man Shall End His Part In Peace; The Clown Shall Make Those Laugh Whose Lungs Are Tickle O' Th' Sere; And The Lady Shall Say Her Mind Freely, Or The Blank Verse Shall Halt Fort.

I Hope To See London Once Ere I Die.

No .... Holy Father, Throw Away That Thought. Believe Not That The Dribbling Dart Of Love Can Pierce A Complete Bosom.

You Are A Lover. Borrow Cupid's Wings And Soar With Them Above A Common Bound.

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I Am Not Merry, But I Do Beguile The Thing I Am By Seeming Otherwise.

Thy Food Is Such As Hath Been Belch'd On By Infected Lungs.

Is There No Respect Of Place, Persons, Nor Time In You?

Will All Great Neptune's Ocean Wash This Blood Clean From My Hand? No, This My Hand Will Rather The Multitudinous Seas Incarnadine, Making The Green One Red.

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

Give It An Understanding, But No Tongue.

Faster Than Spring-time Showers Comes Thought On Thought.

Some Report A Sea-maid Spawn'd Him; Some That He Was Begot Between Two Stock-fishes. But It Is Certain That When He Makes Water His Urine Is Congealed Ice.

I Am The Prince Of Wales; And Think Not, Percy, To Share With Me In Glory Any More: Two Stars Keep Not Their Motion In One Sphere.

Haste Is Needful In A Desperate Case.

Tired With All These, For Restful Death I Cry.

And Yet,to Say The Truth, Reason And Love Keep Little Company Together Nowadays.

Where Souls Do Couch On Flowers We'll Hand In Hand.

Thou Hast Not Half That Power To Do Me Harm As I Have To Be Hurt.

And Some That Smile Have In Their Hearts, I Fear, Millions Of Mischiefs.

This Royal Throne Of Kings, This Scepter'd Isle, This Earth Of Majesty, This Seat Of Mars, This Other Eden, Demi-paradise.

Precious Stones

Paradise On Earth

Enough No More; Tis Not So Sweet Now As It Was Before.

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Thyself Shall See The Act; For, As Thou Urgest Justice, Be Assured Thou Shalt Have Justice, More Than Thou Desir'st.

How Easy It Is For The Proper-false In Woman's Waxen Hearts To Set Their Forms!

Danger Knows Full Well That Caesar Is More Dangerous Than He. We Are Two Lions Litter’d In One Day, And I The Elder And More Terrible.

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

The Play's The Thing.

Conceal Me What I Am, And Be My Aid For Such Disguise As Haply Shall Become The Form Of My Intent.

Civil Dissension Is A Viperous Worm That Gnaws The Bowels Of The Commonwealth.

Grief Fills The Room Up Of My Absent Child, Lies In His Bed, Walks Up And Down With Me, Puts On His Pretty Look, Repeats His Words, Remembers Me Of His Gracious Parts, Stuffs Out His Vacant Garments With His Form

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

O' Thinkest Thou We Shall Ever Meet Again? I Doubt It Not; And All These Woes Shall Serve For Sweet Discourses In Our Times To Come.

I Cannot Be A Man With Wishing, Therefore I Will Die A Woman With Grieving.

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Do Not Banish Reason For Inequality; But Let Your Reason Serve To Make The Truth Appear Where It Seems Hid, And Hide The False Seems True.

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Still It Cried ‘sleep No More!’ To All The House: ‘glamis Hath Murder’d Sleep, And Therefore Cawdor Shall Sleep No More,—macbeth Shall Sleep No More!

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Modest Doubt Is Called The Beacon Of The Wise.

Frame Your Mind To Mirth And Merriment Which Bars A Thousand Harms And Lengthens Life.

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Which Can Say More Than This Rich Praise, That You Alone Are You?

Sick In The World's Regard, Wretched And Low.

Fit For The Mountains And The Barbarous Caves, Where Manners Ne'er Were Preached.

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I Have Seen Better Faces In My Time Than Stands On Any Shoulder That I See Before Me At This Instant.

For Naught So Vile That On The Earth Doth Live But To The Earth Some Special Good Doth Give.

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The Brain May Devise Laws For The Blood, But A Hot Temper Leaps O'er A Cold Decree.

A Table Full Of Welcome Makes Scarce One Dainty Dish.

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The More Pity, That Fools May Not Speak Wisely What Wise Men Do Foolishly.

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This Is The Very Ecstasy Of Love.

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For There's No Motion That Tends To Vice In Man, But I Affirm It Is The Woman's Part.

That Which I Would Discover The Law Of Friendship Bids Me To Conceal.

Last Scene Of All That Ends This Strange, Eventful History, Is Second Childishness And Mere Oblivion. I Am Sans Teeth, Sans Eyes, Sans Taste, Sans Everything.

He Does Me Double Wrong That Wounds Me With The Flatteries Of His Tongue.

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From Camp To Camp, Through The Foul Womb Of Night, The Hum Of Either Army Stilly Sounds, That The Fixed Sentinels Almost Receive The Secret Whispers Of Each Other's Watch. Fire Answers Fire, And Through Their Play Flames Each Battle Sees The Other's Umbered Face. Steed Threatens Steed, In High And Boastful Neighs Piercing The Night's Dull Ear; And From The Tents The Armorers Accomplishing The Knights, With Busy Hammers Closing Rivets Up, Give Dreadful Note Of Preparation.

Why Should We Rise Because 'tis Light? Did We Lie Down Because T'was Night?

Oh, How This Spring Of Love Resembleth, The Uncertain Glory Of An April Day, Which Now Shows All Beauty Of The Sun, And By And By A Cloud Takes All Away

A Turn Or Two I'll Walk To Still My Beating Mind.

Farewell! God Knows When We Shall Meet Again.

Woah Is Me To Have Seen What I Seen See What I See

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Thrust Your Head Into The Public Street, To Gaze On Christian Fools With Varnish'd Faces.

Fair Youth, I Would I Could Make Thee Believe I Love.

How Oft The Sight Of Means To Do Ill Deeds Makes Ill Deeds Done!

I Love Thee, And It Is My Love That Speaks

One May Smile, And Smile, And Be A Villain.

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Adieu, Adieu, Adieu! Remember Me.

Though Death Be Poor, It Ends A Mortal Woe.

That Which Hath Made Them Drunk Hath Made Me Bold; What Hath Quenched Them Hath Given Me Fire.

Hear My Soul Speak. Of The Very Instant That I Saw You, Did My Heart Fly At Your Service

Where The Bee Sucks, There Suck I In The Cow-slip's Bell I Lie There I Couch When Owls Do Cry

A Lion Among Ladies Is A Most Dreadful Thing.

I Was Too Young That Time To Value Her, But Now I Know Her. If She Be A Traitor, Why, So Am I. We Still Have Slept Together, Rose At An Instant, Learned, Played, Eat Together, And Wheresoe'er We Went, Like Juno's Swans, Still We Went Coupled And Inseparable.

She Lov'd Me For The Dangers I Had Pass'd, And I Lov'd Her That She Did Pity Them

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.

Look How The World's Poor People Are Amazed At Apparitions, Signs And Prodigies!

I Wish My Horse Had The Speed Of Your Tongue.

Pardon, Gentles All, The Flat Unraised Spirits That Have Dared On This Unworthy Scaffold To Bring Forth So Great An Object.

I Was Adored Once Too.

Young Men's Love Then Lies Not Truly In Their Hearts, But In Their Eyes.

Give Obedience Where 'tis Truly Owed.

This Is A Way To Kill A Wife With Kindness.

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.

But Jealous Souls Will Not Be Answered So, They Are Not Ever Jealous For The Cause, But Jealous For They're Jealous. 'tis A Monster Begot Upon Itself, Born On Itself.

My Joy Is Death- Death, At Whose Name I Oft Have Been Afeard, Because I Wish'd This World's Eternity.

You Take My Life When You Do Take The Means Whereby I Live

I Am Falser Than Vows Made In Wine.

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

Since I Do Purpose To Marry, I Will Think Nothing To Any Purpose That The World Can Say Against It; And Therefore Never Floutat Me For What I Have Said Against It; For Man Is A Giddy Thing, And This Is My Conclusion.

I Dare Do All That May Become A Man; Who Dares Do More, Is None

Take Her Away; For She Hath Lived Too Long, To Fill The World With Vicious Qualities.

By My Troth, I Care Not; A Man Can Die But Once; We Owe God A Death And Let It Go Which Way It Will He That Dies This Year Is Quit For The Next

Well, While I Live I'll Fear No Other Thing So Sore As Keeping Safe Nerissa's Ring.

Love Sought Is Good, But Given Unsought, Is Better.

The Wind-shak'd Surge, With High And Monstrous Main, Seems To Cast Water On The Burning Bear, And Quench The Guards Of The Ever-fixed Pole.

What Made Me Love Thee? Let That Persuade Thee, There's Something Extraordinary In Thee

Friendship Is Constant In All Other Things Save In The Office And Affairs Of Love. Therefore All Hearts In Love Use Their Own Tongues. Let Every Eye Negotiate For Itself, And Trust No Agent; For Beauty Is A Witch Against Whose Charms Faith Melteth Into Blood.

...too Much Sadness Hath Congealed Your Blood,and Melancholy Is The Nurse Of Frenzy.

Our Very Eyes Are Sometimes, Like Our Judgments, Blind.

For I Am Proverbed With A Grandsire Phrase.

This Tyrant, Whose Sole Name Blisters Our Tongues,was Once Thought Honest.

Do You Bite Your Thumb At Us, Sir?

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Oh What Fools We Mortals Are.

My Tongue Will Tell The Anger Of My Heart, Or Else My Heart Concealing It Will Break.

I Must Be Cruel Only To Be Kind; Thus Bad Begins, And Worse Remains Behind.

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God, The Best Maker Of All Marriages, Combine Your Hearts Into One.

Wedding Anniversary

Can It Be Chat Modesty May More Betray Our Sense Than Woman's Lightness?

Even So; An't Please Your Worship, Brakenbury, You May Partake Of Any Thing We Say: We Speak No Treason, Man; We Say The King Is Wise And Virtuous, And His Noble Queen Well Struck In Years, Fair, And Not Jealous; We Say That Shore's Wife Hath A Pretty Foot, A Cherry Lip, A Bonny Eye, A Passing Pleasing Tongue; And That The Queen's Kindred Are Made Gentlefolks.

Make Not Your Thoughts Your Prisons.

She Will Die If You Love Her Not, And She Will Die Ere She Might Make Her Love Known

Love, Therefore, And Tongue-tied Simplicity In Least Speak Most, To My Capacity.

All The Contagion Of The South Light On You, You Shames Of Rome! You Herd Of--boils And Plagues Plaster You O'er; That You May Be Abhorr'd Further Than Seen, And One Infect Another Against The Wind A Mile!

As Merry As The Day Is Long.

He Hath A Heart As Sound As A Bell, And His Tongue Is The Clapper; For What His Heart Thinks His Tongue Speaks.

Some Cupid Kills With Arrows, Some With Traps.

Cold Indeed, And Labor Lost: Then Farewell Heat, And Welcome Frost!

It Is A Tale Told By An Idiot, Full Of Sound And Fury; Signifying Nothing.

Love, Which Teacheth Me That Thou And I Am One

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

Ay; Beauty's Princely Majesty Is Such, Confounds The Tongue And Makes The Senses Rough.

Now I Will Believe That There Are Unicorns.

You Wear Out A Good Wholesome Forenoon In Hearing A Cause Between An Orange Wife And A Fosset-seller.

Prophet May You Be! If I Be False, Or Swerve A Hair From Truth, When Time Is Old And Hath Forgot Itself, When Waterdrops Have Worn The Stones Of Troy, And Blind Oblivion Swallowed Cities Up, And Mighty States Characterless Are Grated To Dusty Nothing, Yet Let Memory, From False To False, Among False Maids In Love, Upbraid My Falsehood!

Heaven Truly Knows That Thou Art False As Hell.

Since Brass, Nor Stone, Nor Earth, Nor Boundless Sea, But Bad Mortality O'ersways Their Power, How With This Rage Shall Beauty Hold A Plea, Whose Action Is No Stronger Than A Flower?

[thine] Face Is Not Worth Sunburning.

Well, In That Hit You Miss. She'll Not Be Hit With Cupid's Arrow. She Hath Dian's Wit, And, In Strong Proff Of Chastity Well Armed, From Love's Weak Childish Bow She Lives Uncharmed. She Will Not Stay The Siege Of Loving Terms, Nor Bide Th' Encounter Of Assailing Eyes, Nor Ope Her Lap To Saint-seducing Gold. O, She Is Rich In Beauty; Only Poor That, When She Dies, With Dies Her Store. Act 1,scene 1, Lines 180-197

You Have Dancing Shoes With Nimble Soles. I Have A Soul Of Lead.

Here Come The Lovers, Full Of Joy And Mirth.— Joy, Gentle Friends! Joy And Fresh Days Of Love Accompany Your Hearts!

Cry "havoc!" And Let Loose The Dogs Of War, That This Foul Deed Shall Smell Above The Earth With Carrion Men, Groaning For Burial.

Thou Whoreson, Senseless Villain!

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

The Blood Weeps From My Heart When I Do Shape, In Forms Imaginary, Th' Unguided Days And Rotten Times That You Shall Look Upon When I Am Sleeping With My Ancestors.

Words, Words, Mere Words, No Matter From The Heart.

Men's Vows Are Women's Traitors

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.

What Many Men Desire--that 'many' May Be Meant By The Fool Multitude That Choose By Show, Not Learning More Than The Fond Eye Doth Teach, Which Pries Not To Th' Interior, But Like The Martlet Builds In The Weather On The Outward Wall, Even In The Force And Road Of Casualty.

Let Not Our Babbling Dreams Affright Our Souls; Conscience Is But A Work That Cowards Use, Devised At First To Keep The Strong In Awe: Our Strong Arms Be Our Conscience, Swords Our Law!

Let Him Smell His Way To Dover!

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Sound Trumpets! Let Our Bloody Colours Wave! And Either Victory, Or Else A Grave.

Wisely, I Say, I Am A Bachelor.

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I Shall Show The Cinders Of My Spirits Through The Ashes Of My Chance.

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Virtue Preserv'd From Fell Destruction's Blast, Led On By Heaven, And Crown'd With Joy At Last.

He That Wants Money, Means, And Content Is Without Three Good Friends.

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