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William Shakespeare

"Age cannot wither her nor custom stale Her infinite variety."

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"Age cannot wither her nor custom stale Her infinite variety."

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Amber Hurdle

"Then, were not summer's distillation leftA liquid prisoner pent in walls of glass,Beauty's effect with beauty were bereft,Nor it nor no remembrance what it was.But flowers distilled, though they with winter meet,Leese but their show; their substance still lives sweet."

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Amber Hurdle

"Explore the wonders of different shades of colours. It is purely lovely."

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Amber Hurdle

"All that is beautiful can only be felt."

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Amber Hurdle

"If I could write the beauty of your eyesAnd in fresh numbers number all your graces,The age to come would say 'this poet lies! Such heaven never touched earthly faces."

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Amber Hurdle

"The shades of colours are splendid."

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Amber Hurdle

"There is a beautiful village in every country."

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Amber Hurdle

"Beauty is life when life unveils her holy face. But you are life and you are the veil. Beauty is eternity gazing at itself in a mirror. But you are eternity and you are the mirror."

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Amber Hurdle

"Do you think I'm pretty?He regarded me with utter seriousness, like he always did. "I think you're beautiful."Beautiful?"You are so beautiful, it hurts me sometimes."

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Amber Hurdle

"She was so beautiful that it made my soul ache."

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Amber Hurdle

"The beauty of a face is not a separate quality but a relation or proportion of qualities to each other."

Explore more quotes by William Shakespeare

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William Shakespeare
"Doubt thou the stars are fire, Doubt that the sun doth move. Doubt truth to be a liar, But never doubt I love."
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William Shakespeare
"How stand I, then,That have a father killed, a mother stained,Excitements of my reason and my blood,And let all sleep, while to my shame I seeThe imminent death of twenty thousand menThat for a fantasy and trick of fameGo to their graves like beds, fight for a plotWhereon the numbers cannot try the cause,Which is not tomb enough and continentTo hide the slain? O, from this time forthMy thoughts be bloody or be nothing."
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William Shakespeare
"Then, were not summer's distillation leftA liquid prisoner pent in walls of glass,Beauty's effect with beauty were bereft,Nor it nor no remembrance what it was.But flowers distilled, though they with winter meet,Leese but their show; their substance still lives sweet."
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William Shakespeare
"Heigh-ho! sing, heigh-ho! unto the green holly:Most friendship is feigning, most loving mere folly:Then, heigh-ho, the holly!This life is most jolly."
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William Shakespeare
"Beggar that I am I am even poor in thanks."
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William Shakespeare
"LEAR: ...yet you see how this world goes.GLOS.: I see it feelingly."
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William Shakespeare
"Refrain to-night;And that shall lend a kind of easinessTo the next abstinence, the next more easy;For use almost can change the stamp of nature,And either master the devil or throw him outWith wondrous potency."
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William Shakespeare
"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 locksWhich make such wanton gambols with the wind,Upon supposed fairness, often knownTo be the dowry of a second head,The skull that bred them in the sepulchre.Thus ornament is but the guiled shoreTo a most dangerous sea; the beauteous scarfVeiling an Indian beauty; in a word,The seeming truth which cunning times put onTo entrap the wisest."
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William Shakespeare
"If [God] send me no husband, for the which blessing I am at him upon my knees every morning and evening ..."
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William Shakespeare
"My mistress' eyes are nothing like the sun;Coral is far more red than her lips' red;If snow be white, why then her breasts are dun;If hairs be wires, black wires grow on her head.I have seen roses damask'd, red and white,But no such roses see I in her cheeks;And in some perfumes is there more delightThan in the breath that from my mistress reeks.I love to hear her speak, yet well I knowThat music hath a far more pleasing sound;I grant I never saw a goddess go;My mistress, when she walks, treads on the ground: And yet, by heaven, I think my love as rare As any she belied with false compare."
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