Quotes of All Topics . Occasions . Authors
Young Adam Cupid, he that shot so trim, When King Cophetua loved the beggar-maid!
If she be fair and wise, fairness and wit, The one's for use, the other useth it.
A thousand kisses buys my heart from me; And pay them at thy leisure, one by one.
Dost thou think, because thou art virtuous, there shall be no more cakes and ale?
How many things by season seasoned are To their right praise and true perfection!
Alas, our frailty is the cause , not we! For, such as we are made of, such we be.
And yet, by heaven, I think my love as rare As any she belied with false compare.
Tis safter to be that which we destroy Than by destruction dwell in doubtful joy.
The extreme parts of time extremely forms all causes to the purpose of his speed.
A fellow by the hand of nature mark'd, Quoted, and sign'd, to do a deed of shame.
Right joyous are we to behold your face, Most worthy brother England; fairly met!
The violence of either grief or joy, their own enactures with themselves destroy.
Sometimes when we are labeled, when we are branded our brand becomes our calling.
Fit for the mountains and the barbarous caves, where manners ne'er were preached.
The evil that men do lives after them; the good is oft interred with their bones.
Sound trumpets! Let our bloody colours wave! And either victory, or else a grave.
I have seen roses damask'd, red and white, But no such roses see I in her cheeks.
To persist in doing wrong extenuates not the wrong, but makes it much more heavy.
My endeavors Have ever come too short of my desires. Yet filed with my abilities.
Their manners are more gentle, kind, than of Our human generation you shall find.
Through tattered clothes, small vices do appear. Robes and furred gowns hide all.
The big round tears Cours'd one another down his innocent nose, In piteous chase.
Things base and vile, holding no quantity, love can transpose to form and dignity
Shall remain! Hear you this Triton of the minnows? Mark you His absolute 'shall'?
I had rather be a kitten and cry mew Than one of these same metre ballet-mongers.
Then let thy love be younger than thyself, Or thy affection cannot hold the bent.
Affection, mistress of passion, sways it to the mood of what it likes or loathes.
Anger is like A full hot horse, who being allowed his way, Self-mettle tires him.
Oft have I heard that grief softens the mind And makes it fearful and degenerate.
I 'gin to be aweary of the sun, And wish th' estate o' th' world were now undone.
She lov'd me for the dangers I had pass'd, And I lov'd her that she did pity them
And therefore is love said to be a child, Because in choice he is so oft beguil'd
Then is it sin to rush into the secret house of death. Ere death dare come to us?
But most it is presumption in us when the help of heaven we count the act of men.
He draweth out the thread of his verbosity finer than the staple of his argument.
Weariness can snore upon the flint when resting sloth finds the down pillow hard.
The seasons alter: hoary-headed frosts Fall in the fresh lap of the crimson rose.
The light that never was, on sea or land; The consecration, and the Poet's dream.
In ourselves our safety must be sought. By our own right hand it must be wrought.
And often, glad no more, We wear a face of joy because We have been glad of yore.
Thou best philosopher, who yet dost keep/ Thy heritage, thou eye among the blind.
It's just not easy to explain to someone else what you don't understand yourself.
Tomorrow, more's the pity, Away we both must hie, To air the ditty and to earth I.
This only grant me, that my means may lie, too low for envy, for contempt to high.
This only grant me, that my means may lie too low for envy, for contempt too high.
These scars bear witness but whether to repair or to destruction I no longer know.
During a race where everyone holds their own truth, the finish line is a surprise.
It is necessary, in this world, to be made of harder stuff than one's environment.
I've written this to keep from crying. But I am crying, only the tears won't come.
I would really like, in fact, to be born again in another two hundred years' time.