Quotes of All Topics . Occasions . Authors
Remorse is virtue's root; its fair increase is fruits of innocence and blessedness.
The only human value of anything, writing included, is intense vision of the facts.
The business of love is cruelty which, by our wills, we transform to live together.
all to no end save beauty the eternal-- So in detail they, the crowd, are beautiful
Old age is a flight of small cheeping birds skimming bare trees above a snow glaze.
Pleasure admitted in undue degree, enslaves the will, nor leaves the judgment free.
To follow foolish precedents, and wink With both our eyes, is easier than to think.
The path of sorrow, and that path alone, leads to the land where sorrow is unknown.
An idler is a watch that wants both hands; As useless if it goes as when it stands.
An epigram is but a feeble thing - With straw in tail, stuck there by way of sting.
O, popular applause! what heart of man is proof against thy sweet, seducing charms?
Ah! fraudful malice! how shall wisdom's care Escape the poison of thy gilded snare!
Friendship is constant in all other things, save in the office and affairs of love.
Mine honour is my life; both grow in one; Take honour from me, and my life is done.
There is nothing in the world so much like prayer as music is. ~William Shakespeare
The fittest time to corrupt a man's wife is when she's fallen out with her husband.
That which in mean men we entitle patience is pale cold cowardice in noble breasts.
Give thanks for what you are today and go on fighting for what you gone be tomorrow
Vanity keeps persons in favor with themselves who are out of favor with all others.
What's in a name? That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet.
I feel within me a peace above all earthly dignities, a still and quiet conscience.
Shine out fair sun, till I have bought a glass, That I may see my shadow as I pass.
The moon of Rome, chaste as the icicle that's curded by the frost from purest snow.
My thoughts are whirled like a potter's wheel; I know not where I am nor what I do.
We all are men, in our own natures frail, and capable of our flesh; few are angels.
Tremble, thou wretch, That hast within thee undivulged crimes Unwhipped of justice.
If the masses can love without knowing why, they also hate without much foundation.
Methinks a father Is at the nuptial of his son a guest That best becomes the table.
Two lovely berries moulded on one stem; So, with two seeming bodies, but one heart.
I had rather chop this hand off at a blow, And with the other fling it at thy face.
Well, while I live I'll fear no other thing So sore as keeping safe Nerissa's ring.
The brain may devise laws for the blood, but a hot temper leaps o'er a cold decree.
O love, be moderate, allay thy ecstasy, In measure rain thy joy, scant this excess!
Gnarling sorrow hath less power to bite The man that mocks at it and sets it light.
There's such divinity doth hedge a king That treason can but peep to what it would.
Many strokes, though with a little axe, hew down and fell the hardest-timber'd oak.
This passion, and the death of a dear friend, would go near to make a man look sad.
And, if you love me, as I think you do, let's kiss and part, for we have much to do
No villainous bounty yet hath passed my heart; Unwisely, not ignobly, have I given.
I am sure, Though you can guess what temperance should be, You know not what it is.
O! Let me not be mad, not mad, sweet heaven; keep me in temper; I would not be mad!
I think thy horse will sooner con an oration than thou learn a prayer without book.
Out, damned spot! out, I say! One: two: why, then 'tis time to do't. Hell is murky!
Murder most foul, as in the best it it; But this most foul, strange, and unnatural.
What to ourselves in passion we propose, The passion ending, doth the purpose lose.
I will go wash; And when my face is fair, you shall perceive Whether I blush or no.
Let there be gall enough in thy ink, though thou write with a goose-pen, no matter.
What's past and what's to come is strew'd with husks And formless ruin of oblivion.
Oh why rebuke you him that loves you so? / Lay breath so bitter on your bitter foe.
What? do I love her, that I desire to hear her speak again, and feast upon her eyes