O, my lord, You said that idle weeds are fast in growth: The prince my brother hath outgrown me far.
Love that we cannot have is the one that lasts the longest,hurts the deepest,but feels the strongest
It was always yet the trick of our English nation, if they have a good thing, to make it too common.
Care I for the limb, the thews, the stature, bulk, and big assemblance of a man! Give me the spirit.
Where art thou, Muse, that thou forget'st so long / To speak of that which gives thee all thy might?
My love is thaw'd; Which, like a waxen image 'gainst a fire, bears no impression of the thing it was
Prudent men lock up their motives, letting familiars have a key to their hearts, as to their garden.
The regard one shows economy, is like that we show an old aunt who is to leave us something at last.
It's love,' they say. You touch the right one and a whole half of the universe wakes up, a new half.
Heaven lies about us in our infancy! Shades of the prison-house begin to close upon the growing boy.
They say the first sentence in any speech is always the hardest. Well, that one's behind me, anyway.
As a writer given to the old formalities of rhyme and meter, I sometimes feel endangered these days.