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Why, Friends, You Go To Do You Know Not What: Wherein Hath Caesar Thus Deserved Your Loves? Alas, You Know Not: I Must Tell You Then: You Have Forgot The Will I Told You Of. . . . . Here Is The Will, And Under Caesar's Seal. To Every Roman Citizen He Gives, To Every Several Man, Seventy-five Drachmas. . . . . Moreover, He Hath Left You All His Walks, His Private Arbours And New-planted Orchards, On This Side Tiber; He Hath Left Them You, And To Your Heirs For Ever, Common Pleasures, To Walk Abroad, And Recreate Yourselves. Here Was A Caesar! When Comes Such Another?

-William Shakespeare

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Why, Friends, You Go

William Shakespeare

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Why, Friends, You Go To Do You Know Not What: Wherein Hath Caesar Thus Deserved Your Loves? Alas, You Know Not: I Must Tell You Then: You Have Forgot The Will I Told You Of. . . . . Here Is The Will, And Under Caesar's Seal. To Every Roman Citizen He Gives, To Every Several Man, Seventy-five Drachmas. . . . . Moreover, He Hath Left You All His Walks, His Private Arbours And New-planted Orchards, On This Side Tiber; He Hath Left Them You, And To Your Heirs For Ever, Common Pleasures, To Walk Abroad, And Recreate Yourselves. Here Was A Caesar! When Comes Such Another?

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Good Name In Man And Woman, Dear My Lord, Is The Immediate Jewel Of Their Souls: Who Steals My Purse Steals Trash; ’tis Something, Nothing; ’twas Mine, ’tis His, And Has Been Slave To Thousands; But He That Filches From Me My Good Name Robs Me Of That Which Not Enriches Him, And Makes Me Poor Indeed.

The King's Name Is A Tower Of Strength.

Conscience Is A Thousand Swords.

How Far That Little Candle Throws Its Beams! So Shines A Good Deed In A Naughty World.

My Age Is As A Lusty Winter, Frosty But Kindly.

Who Wooed In Haste, And Means To Wed At Leisure.

I Like This Place And Could Willingly Waste My Time In It.

Wasting My Time

Things Base And Vile, Holding No Quantity, Love Can Transpose To Form And Dignity. Love Looks Not With The Eyes, But With The Mind, And Therefore Is Winged Cupid Painted Blind. Nor Hath Love's Mind Of Any Judgment Taste; Wings And No Eyes Figure Unheedy Haste.

Every Man Has Business And Desire, Such As It Is.

Good God, The Souls Of All My Tribe Defend From Jealousy!

That Which Is Now A Horse, Even With A Thought The Rack Dislimms, And Makes It Indistinct As Water Is In Water

The Moon, Like To A Silver Bow New Bent In Heaven.

Look, The World's Comforter, With Weary Gait, His Day's Hot Task Hath Ended In The West: The Owl, Night's Herald, Shrieks-'tis Very Late; The Sheep Are Gone To Fold, Birds To Their Nest; And Coal-black Clouds, That Shadow Heaven's Light, Do Summon Us To Part, And Bid Good Night.

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.

Thy Tongue Makes Welsh As Sweet As Ditties Highly Penn'd, Sung By A Fair Queen In A Summer's Bower, With Ravishing Division, To Her Lute.

O, While You Live, Tell Truth, And Shame The Devil!

When I Got Enough Confidence, The Stage Was Gone. When I Was Sure Of Losing, I Won. When I Needed People The Most, They Left Me. When I Learnt To Dry My Tears, I Found A Shoulder To Cry On. And When I Mastered The Art Of Hating, Somebody Started Loving Me.

Let's Go Hand In Hand, Not One Before Another.

Mercutio: "if Love Be Rough With You, Be Rough With Love.

Romeo And Juliet Love

For Though The Camomile, The More It Is Trodden On The Faster It Grows, Yet Youth, The More It Is Wasted, The Sooner It Wears.

Or Art Thou But / A Dagger Of The Mind, A False Creation, / Proceeding From The Heat-oppressed Brain?

Macbeth To Witches: What Are These So Wither'd And So Wild In Their Attire, That Look Not Like Th' Inhabitants O' Th' Earth, And Yet Are On 't?

Just Death, Kind Umpire Of Men's Miseries.

Come Give Us A Taste Of Your Quality.

To Kill, I Grant, Is Sin's Extremest Gust; But, In Defence, By Mercy, 'tis Most Just.

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

This Night I Hold An Old Accustomed Feast, Whereto I Have Invited Many A Guest, Such As I Love; And You Among The Store, One More, Most Welcome, Makes My Number More.

There's A Time For All Things.

But I, That Am Not Shaped For Sportive Tricks, Nor Made To Court An Amorous Looking-glass; I, That Am Rudely Stamped, And Want Love's Majesty To Strut Before A Wanton Ambling Nymph; I, That Am Curtailed Of This Fair Proportion, Cheated Of Feature By Dissembling Nature, Deformed, Unfinished, Sent Before My Time Into This Breathing World, Scarce Half Made Up, And That So Lamely And Unfashionable That Dogs Bark At Me As I Halt By Them,-- Why, I, In This Weak Piping Time Of Peace, Have No Delight To Pass Away The Time, Unless To Spy My Shadow In The Sun.

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

The Hand Of Little Employment Hath The Daintier Sense.

The Fire Seven Times Tried This; Seven Times Tried That Judgement Is That Did Never Choose Amiss Some There Be That Shadows Kiss; Such Have But A Shadows Bliss, There Be Fool Alive, I Wis Silverd O'er, And So Was This Take What Wife You Will To Bed I Will Ever Be Your Head. So Be Gone; You Are Sped.

Beauty Is But A Vain And Doubtful Good; A Shining Gloss That Fadeth Suddenly; A Flower That Dies When It Begins To Bud; A Doubtful Good, A Gloss, A Glass, A Flower, Lost, Faded, Broken, Dead Within An Hour.

A Lover Goes Toward His Beloved As Enthusiastically As A Schoolboy Leaving His Books, But When He Leaves His Girlfriend, He Feels As Miserable As The Schoolboy On His Way To School. (act 2, Scene 2)

I Am Sure Care's An Enemy To Life.

They Have Been Grand-jurymen Since Before Noah Was A Sailor

God Defend The Right.

For My Grief's So Great That No Supporter But The Huge Firm Earth Can Hold It Up: Here I And Sorrows Sit; Here Is My Throne, Bid Kings Come Bow To It. (constance, From King John, Act Iii, Scene 1)

To Think But Nobly Of My Grandmother: Good Wombs Have Borne Bad Sons.

Is This The Generation Of Love? Hot Blood, Hot Thoughts And Hot Deeds? Why, They Are Vipers. Is Love A Generation Of Vipers?

Come What Sorrow Can, It Cannot Countervail The Exchange Of Joy, That One Short Minute Gives Me In Her Sight

For This, Be Sure, Tonight Thou Shalt Have Cramps, Side-stitches That Shall Pen Thy Breath Up. Urchins Shall Forth At Vast Of Night That They May Work All Exercise On Thee. Thou Shalt Be Pinched As Thick As Honeycomb, Each Pinch More Stinging Than Bees That Made 'em.

To Show Our Simple Skill, That Is The True Beginning Of Our End.

You Told A Lie, An Odious Damned Lie; Upon My Soul, A Lie, A Wicked Lie.

This Thought Is As A Death.

I Would That I Were Low Laid In My Grave. I Am Not Worth This Coil That's Made For Me.

He Kills Her In Her Own Humor.

Taming Of The Shrew

How Many A Holy And Obsequious Tear Hath Dear Religious Love Stolen From Mine Eye, As Interest Of The Dead!

The Blood Of Youth Burns Not With Such Excess As Gravity's Revolt To Wantonness.

Poor And Content, Is Rich And Rich Enough; But Riches, Fineless, Is As Poor As Winter, To Him That Ever Fears He Shall Be Poor.

Self Improvement

It Is The Witness Still Of Excellency To Put A Strange Face On His Own Perfection.

My Grief Lies All Within, And These External Manners Of Lament Are Merely Shadows To The Unseen Grief That Swells With Silence In The Tortured Soul.

Men Should Be What They Seem; Or Those That Be Not, Would They Might Seem None!.

To Sue To Live, I Find I Seek To Die; And, Seeking Death, Find Life: Let It Come On.

Wine Loved I Deeply, Dice Dearly.

Will You Walk Out Of The Air, My Lord? Hamlet Into My Grave.

You Peasant Swain! You Whoreson Malt-horse Drudge!

This Fellow Pecks Up Wit, As Pigeons Peas; And Utters It Again When God Doth Please: He Is Wit's Pedler; And Retails His Wares.

He Was Met Even Now As Mad As The Vex'd Sea; Singing Aloud; Crown'd With Rank Fumiter And Furrow-weeds, With Bur-docks, Hemlock, Nettles, Cuckoo-flowers, Darnel, And All The Idle Weeds That Grow In Our Sustaining Corn.

You Are My True And Honourable Wife; As Dear To Me As The Ruddy Drops That Visit My Sad Heart.

Their Understanding Begins To Swell And The Approaching Tide Will Shortly Fill The Reasonable Shores That Now Lie Foul And Muddy.

She Shall Scant Show Well That Now Shows Best.

Romeo And Juliet Juliet

Will Fortune Never Come With Both Hands Full, But Write Her Fair Words Still In Foulest Terms?

Within The Book And Volume Of Thy Brain.

I Was Born Free As Caesar; So Were You

Not Stepping Over The Bounds Of Modesty.

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

Either Our History Shall With Full Mouth Speak Freely Of Our Acts, Or Else Our Grave, Like Turkish Mute, Shall Have A Tongueless Mouth, Not Worshipped With A Waxen Epitaph.

You Cram These Words Into Mine Ears Against The Stomach Of My Sense.

No Deeper Wrinkles Yet? Hath Sorrow Struck So Many Blows Upon This Face Of Mine And Made No Deeper Wounds?

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

Hardness Ever Of Hardness Is Mother.

My Crown Is In My Heart, Not On My Head.

O, I Do Not Like That Paying Back, 'tis A Double Labor.

The Attempt And Not The Deed Confounds Us.

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.

Then Is Courtesy A Turncoat. But It Is Certain I Am Loved Of All Ladies, Only You Excepted: And I Would I Could Find In My Heart That I Had Not A Hard Heart; For, Truly, I Love None. Beatrice: A Dear Happiness To Women: They Would Else Have Been Troubled With A Pernicious Suitor. I Thank God And My Cold Blood, I Am Of Your Humour For That: I Had Rather Hear My Dog Bark At A Crow Than A Man Swear He Loves Me. -much Ado About Nothing

Gloucester: Yet So Much Is My Poverty Of Spirit, So Mighty And So Many My Defects, As I Had Rather Hide Me From My Greatness, Being A Bark To Brook No Mighty Sea, Than In My Greatness Covet To Be Hid, And In The Vapour Of My Glory Smother'd. But God Be Thanked. . . .

Look On Beauty, And You Shall See 'tis Purchased By The Weight; Which Therein Works A Miracle In Nature, Making Them Lightest That Wear Most Of It: So Are Those Crisped Snaky Golden Locks Which Make Such Wanton Gambols With The Wind Upon Supposed Fairness, Often Known To Be The Dowry Of A Second Head, The Skull That Bred Them In The Sepulchre.

I Had Rather Chop This Hand Off At A Blow, And With The Other Fling It At Thy Face.

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

It Hurts Not The Tongue To Give Fair Words.

There Is Little Choice In A Barrel Of Rotten Apples.

No Might Nor Greatness In Mortality Can Censure 'scape; Back- Wounding Calumny The Whitest Virtue Strikes. What King So Strong Can Tie The Gall Up In The Slanderous Tongue?

Examine Well Your Blood.

Cleopatra: If It Be Love Indeed, Tell Me How Much. Antony: There's Beggary In The Love That Can Be Reckoned. Cleopatra: I'll Set A Bourne How Far To Be Belov'd. Antony: Then Must Thou Needs Find Out New Heaven, New Earth.

In Sooth I Know Not Why I Am So Sad. It Wearies Me, You Say It Wearies You; But How I Caught It, Found It, Or Came By It, What Stuff 'tis Made Of, Whereof It Is Born, I Am To Learn.

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

Thou Art Most Rich, Being Poor; Most Choice, Forsaken; And Most Lov'd, Despis'd! Thee And Thy Virtues Here I Seize Upon.

Out, Damned Spot! Out, I Say!

Have You Not Heard It Said Full Oft, A Woman's Nay Doth Stand For Naught?

A Little Fire Is Quickly Trodden Out, Which, Being Suffer'd, Rivers Cannot Quench.

Wisely, I Say, I Am A Bachelor.

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

I Cannot, Nor I Will Not Hold Me Still; My Tongue, Though Not My Heart, Shall Have His Will.

Ha. "against My Will I Am Sent To Bid You Come Into Dinner." There's A Double Meaning In That. -benedick (much Ado)

O Thou Invisible Spirit Of Wine, If Thou Hast No Name To Be Known By, Let Us Call Thee Devil.

Reputation, Reputation, Reputation! O, I Ha' Lost My Reputation, I Ha' Lost The Immortal Part Of Myself, And What Remains Is Bestial!

O, Full Of Scorpions Is My Mind!

Slander, Whose Whisper Over The World's Diameter, As Level As The Cannon To Its Blank, Transports Its Poisoned Shot.

There Should Be Hours For Necessities, Not For Delights; Times To Repair Our Nature With Comforting Repose, And Not For Us To Waste These Times.

When You Depart From Me Sorrow Abides And Happiness Takes His Leave.

O, Grief Hath Changed Me Since You Saw Me Last, And Careful Hours With Time's Deformed Hand Have Written Strange Defeatures In My Face. But Tell Me Yet, Dost Thou Not Know My Voice?

All Difficulties Are Easy When They Are Known.

I Do Begin To Have Bloody Thoughts.

There Is A History In All Men's Lives.

We Wound Our Modesty And Make Foul The Clearness Of Our Deservings, When Of Ourselves We Publish Them.

Love Comforteth Like Sunshine After Rain, But Lust's Effect Is Tempest After Sun; Love's Gentle Spring Doth Always Fresh Remain, Lust's Winter Comes Ere Summer Half Be Done; Love Surfeits Not, Lust Like A Glutton Dies; Love Is All Truth, Lust Full Of Forged Lies.

We Will Have Rings And Things And Fine Array

Taming Of The Shrew

A Young Man Married Is A Man That's Marred.

Love Is Begun By Time And Time Qualifies The Spark And Fire Of It.

Wedding Anniversary

For Thou Hast Given Me In This Beauteous Face A World Of Earthly Blessings To My Soul, If Sympathy Of Love Unite Our Thoughts.

Though Now This Grained Face Of Mine Be Hid In Sap-consuming Winter's Drizzled Snow, And All The Conduits Of My Blood Froze Up, Yet Hath My Night Of Life Some Memory, My Wasting Lamps Some Fading Glimmer Left, My Dull Deaf Ears A Little Use To Hear.

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

Home-keeping Youth Have Ever Homely Wits.

I Speak Of Peace, While Covert Enmity Under The Smile Of Safety Wounds The World

I Like Not Fair Terms And A Villain's Mind.

Thou Speak'st Like Him's Untutored To Repeat: Who Makes The Fairest Show Means Most Deceit.

Men's Faults Do Seldom To Themselves Appear.

Like The Lily That Once Was Mistress Of The Field And Flourished, I'll Hang My Head And Perish.

Opinion Crowns With An Imperial Voice.

All Gold And Silver Rather Turn To Dirt, An 'tis No Better Reckoned But Of These Who Worship Dirty Gods.

[marriage Is] A World-without-end Bargain.

He That Dies Pays All Debts.

Her Blood Is Settled, And Her Joints Are Stiff; Life And These Lips Have Long Been Separated: Death Lies On Her Like An Untimely Frost Upon The Sweetest Flower Of All The Field.

In Peace There's Nothing So Becomes A Man As Modest Stillness And Humility: But When The Blast Of War Blows In Our Ears, Then Imitate The Action Of The Tiger; Stiffen The Sinews, Summon Up The Blood, Disguise Fair Nature With Hard-favour'd Rage; Then Lend The Eye A Terrible Aspect; . . . . Now Set The Teeth And Stretch The Nostril Wide, Hold Hard The Breath And Bend Up Every Spirit To His Full Height. On, On, You Noblest English.

War Is No Strife To The Dark House And The Detested Wife.

He Does It With Better Grace, But I Do It More Natural.

...and Then, In Dreaming, / The Clouds Methought Would Open And Show Riches / Ready To Drop Upon Me, That When I Waked / I Cried To Dream Again.

A Glooming Peace This Morning With It Brings; The Sun, For Sorrow, Will Not Show His Head: Go Hence, To Have More Talk Of These Sad Things; Some Shall Be Pardon'd, And Some Punished: For Never Was A Story Of More Woe Than This Of Juliet And Her Romeo.

Romeo And Juliet Love

If The Masses Can Love Without Knowing Why, They Also Hate Without Much Foundation.

Hold, Or Cut Bowstrings.

Be Not Afraid Of Greatness.

I Am That Merry Wanderer Of The Night.

Dead Poets Society

Assume A Virtue, If You Have It Not. That Monster, Custom, Who All Sense Doth Eat; Of Habits Devil, Is Angel Yet In This.

If You Spend Word For Word With Me, I Shall Make Your Wit Bankrupt.

But Kate, Dost Thou Understand Thus Much English? Canst Thou Love Me?" Catherine: "i Cannot Tell." Henry: "can Any Of Your Neighbours Tell, Kate? I'll Ask Them.

What's Done Is Done. The Joy Is In The Doing.

Now, Neighbor Confines, Purge You Of Your Scum! Have You A Ruffian That Will Swear, Drink, Dance, Revel The Night, Rob, Murder, And Commit The Oldest Sins The Newest Kind Of Ways?

Twere To Consider Too Curiously, To Consider So.

To Lapse In Fulness Is Sorer Than To Lie For Need, And Falsehood Is Worse In Kings Than Beggars.

So Now I Have Confessed That He Is Thine, And I My Self Am Mortgaged To Thy Will, My Self I'll Forfeit, So That Other Mine, Thou Wilt Restore To Be My Comfort Still.

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.

Fortune Brings In Some Boats That Are Not Steered.

Trifles Light As Air Are To The Jealous Confirmations Strong As Proofs Of Holy Writ.

This Thou Perceivest, Which Makes Thy Love More Strong, To Love That Well Which Thou Must Leave Ere Long

Why, This Hath Not A Finger's Dignity.

Time Travels In Divers Paces With Divers Persons. I'll Tell You Who Time Ambles Withal, Who Time Trots Withal, Who Time Gallops Withal, And Who He Stands Still Withal.

It Were A Grief So Brief To Part With Thee. Farewell.

What, Keep A Week Away? Seven Days And Nights, Eightscore-eight Hours, And Lovers' Absent Hours More Tedious Than The Dial Eightscore Times! O Weary Reckoning!

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.

Yet Do I Fear Thy Nature; It Is Too Full O' The Milk Of Human Kindness To Catch The Nearest Way: Thou Wouldst Be Great; Art Not Without Ambition, But Without The Illness Should Attend It: What Thou Wouldst Highly, That Wouldst Thou Holily; Wouldst Not Play False, And Yet Wouldst Wrongly Win.

Sleep, That Sometimes Shuts Up Sorrow's Eye.

The Big Round Tears Cours'd One Another Down His Innocent Nose, In Piteous Chase.

Words Spoken Can Not Be Recalled So Think Twice Before You Speak.

Swear Me, Kate, Like A Lady As Thou Art, A Good Mouth-filling Oath.

Where Art Thou, Muse, That Thou Forget'st So Long / To Speak Of That Which Gives Thee All Thy Might?

Day, Night, Late, Early, At Home, Abroad, Alone, In Company, Waking Or Sleeping, Still My Care Hath Been To Have Her Match'd; And Having Now Provided A Gentleman Of Princely Parentage, Of Fair Demesnes, Youthful, And Nobly Train'd, Stuff'd, As They Say, With Honourable Parts, Proportion'd As One's Thought Would Wish A Man- And Then To Have A Wretched Puling Fool, A Whining Mammet, In Her Fortune's Tender, To Answer 'i'll Not Wed, I Cannot Love; I Am Too Young, I Pray You Pardon Me'!

Your Worm Is Your Only Emperor For Diet; We Fat All Creatures Else To Fat Us, And We Fat Ourselves For Maggots.

Such As We Are Made Of, Such We Be.

To Move Wild Laughter In The Throat Of Death? It Cannot Be; It Is Impossible: Mirth Cannot Move A Soul In Agony.

'tis Best To Weigh The Enemy More Mighty Than He Seems.

One Pain Is Cured By Another. Catch Some New Infection In Your Eye And The Poison Of The Old One Would Die.

Muster Your Wits; Stand In Your Own Defence.

Ingratitude Is Monstrous; And For The Multitude To Be Ingrateful Were To Make A Monster Of The Multitude; Of Which We Being Members, Should Bring Ourselves To Be Monstrous Members.

He Was Too Good To Be Where Ill Men Were, And Was The Best Of All Amongst The Rar'st Of Good Ones- Sitting Sadly Hearing Us Praise Our Loves Of Italy For Beauty That Made Barren The Swell'd Boast Of Him That Best Could Speak; For Feature, Laming The Shrine Of Venus Or Straight-pight Minerva, Postures Beyond Brief Nature; For Condition, A Shop Of All The Qualities That Man Loves Woman For; Besides That Hook Of Wiving, Fairness Which Strikes The Eye- Cymbeline.

What E'er You Are That In This Desert Inaccessible, Under The Shade Of Melancholy Boughs, Lose And Neglect The Creeping Hours Of Time.

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!

I Wish You All The Joy That You Can Wish.

I Am A Foe To Tyrants, And My Country's Friend.

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

This Thing Of Darkness I Acknowledge Mine.

Poise The Cause In Justice's Equal Scales, Whose Beam Stands Sure, Whose Rightful Cause Prevails.

O Polished Perturbation! Golden Care! That Keep'st The Ports Of Slumber Open Wide To Many A Watchful Night.

I Must Be Gone And Live, Or Stay And Die.

And Nothing Can We Call Our Own But Death And That Small Model Of The Barren Earth Which Serves As Paste And Cover To Our Bones. For God's Sake, Let Us Sit Upon The Ground And Tell Sad Stories Of The Death Of Kings.

Here Feel We But The Penalty Of Adam, The Seasons' Difference, As The Icy Fang And Churlish Chiding Of The Winter's Wind, Which, When It Bites And Blows Upon My Body, Even Till I Shrink With Cold, I Smile.

Unbidden Guests Are Often Welcomest When They Are Gone.

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

The Bitter Past, More Welcome Is The Sweet.

Time's Glory Is To Command Contending Kings, To Unmask Falsehood, And Bring Truth To Light.

This England Never Did, Nor Never Shall, Lie At The Proud Foot Of A Conqueror, But When It First Did Help To Wound Itself. Now These Her Princes Are Come Home Again, Come The Three Corners Of The World In Arms, And We Shall Shock Them. Nought Shall Make Us Rue, If England To Itself Do Rest But True.

What Freezings I Have Felt, What Dark Days Seen, What Old December's Bareness Everywhere!

Refrain To-night; 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, And Either Master The Devil Or Throw Him Out With Wondrous Potency.

Unnatural Deeds Do Breed Unnatural Troubles: Infected Minds To Their Deaf Pillows Will Discharge Their Secrets.

We Do Pray For Mercy, And That Same Prayer Doth Teach Us All To Render The Deeds Of Mercy.

I Hope To See London Once Ere I Die.

I'll Be Supposed Upon A Book, His Face Is The Worst Thing About Him.

Measure For Measure

I Have Set My Life Upon A Cast, And I Will Stand The Hazard Of The Die.

Good Morrow, 'tis Saint Valentine's Day, All In The Morn Betime, And I A Maid At Your Window, To Be Your Valentine.

Oh What Fools We Mortals Are.

If Men Could Be Contented To Be What They Are, There Were No Fear In Marriage.

For 'tis The Sport To Have The Engineerhoist With His Own Petard.

This Senior-junior, Giant-dwarf, Dan Cupid; Regent Of Love-rhymes, Lord Of Folded Arms, The Anointed Sovereign Of Sighs And Groans, Liege Of All Loiterers And Malcontents.

I Know Them, Yea, And What They Weigh, Even To The Utmost Scruple; Scambling, Out-facing, Fashion-mong'ring Boys, That Lie, And Cog, And Flout, Deprave, And Slander, Go Antickly, And Show Outward Hideousness, And Speak Off Half A Dozen Dangerous Words, How They Might Hurt Their Enemies, If They Durst; And This Is All.

Experience Teacheth That Resolution Is A Sole Help In Need.

Ready To Go But Never To Return.

He Who Has Injured Thee Was Either Stronger Or Weaker Than Thee. If Weaker, Spare Him; If Stronger, Spare Thyself.

I Have Not Slept. Between The Acting Of A Dreadful Thing And The First Motion, All The Interim Is Like A Phantasma, Or A Hideous Dream: The Genius And The Mortal Instruments Are Then In Council; And The State Of Man, Like To A Little Kingdom, Suffers Then The Nature Of An Insurrection.

What Is Past Is Prologue.

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