"My love is as a fever, longing stillFor that which longer nurseth the disease;Feeding on that which doth preserve the ill,The uncertain sickly appetite to please.My reason, the physician to my love,Angry that his prescriptions are not kept,Hath left me, and I desperate now approve,Desire his death, which physic did except.Past cure I am, now reason is past care,And frantic-mad with evermore unrest;My thoughts and my discourse as madmen's are,At random from the truth vainly express'd;For I have sworn thee fair, and thought thee bright,Who art as black as hell, as dark as night."

"Where love is great, the littlest doubts are fear; Where little fears grow great, great love grows there."

"What is past is prologue."

"Alas, that love, whose view is muffled still,Should, without eyes, see pathways to his will!Where shall we dine? O me! What fray was here?Yet tell me not, for I have heard it all.Here's much to do with hate, but more with love.Why, then, O brawling love! O loving hate!O any thing, of nothing first create!O heavy lightness! Serious vanity!Mis-shapen chaos of well-seeming forms!Feather of lead, bright smoke, cold fire, sick health!Still-waking sleep, that is not what it is!This love feel I, that feel no love in this.Dost thou not laugh?"

"This above all: to thine own self be true."

"What, my dear Lady Disdain! are you yet living?Beatrice: Is it possible disdain should die while she hathsuch meet food to feed it as Signior Benedick?"

"This bond is forfeit And lawfully by this the Jew may claim A pound of flesh."

"They have been at a great feast of languages, and stolen the scraps."

"The Weird Sisters, hand in hand,Posters of the sea and land,Thus do go, about, about,Thrice to thine, thrice to mine,And thrice again to make up nine.Peace, the charm's wound up."

"Are you sure/That we are awake? It seems to me/That yet we sleep, we dream."

"Better three hours too soon than a minute too late."

"As full of spirit as the month of May."

"Her blood is settled, and her joints are stiff;Life and these lips have long been separated:Death lies on her like an untimely frostUpon the sweetest flower of all the field."

"Where is Polonius? HAMLET In heaven. Send hither to see. If your messenger find him not there, seek him i' th' other place yourself. But if indeed you find him not within this month, you shall nose him as you go up the stairs into the lobby."

"A young man married is a man that's marred."

"Conscience does make cowards of us all."

"Be thou as chaste as ice as pure as snow thou shalt not escape calumny."

"What, all so soon asleep! I wish mine eyesWould, with themselves, shut up my thoughts..."

"Nice customs curtsy to great kings."

"More grief to hide than hate to utter love. Polonius, Hamlet."

"Now is the winter of our discontent."

"As I love the name of honour more than I fear death."

"See you now your bait of falsehood take this carp of truth; and thus do we of wisdom and of reach, with windlasses and with assays of bias, by indirections find directions out."

"Praise us as we are tasted, allow us as we prove."

"But men are men the best sometimes forget."

"I say there is no darkness but ignorance."

"Timon: I'll beat thee, but I should infect my hands."

"Your honour's players, hearing your amendment, Are come to play a pleasant comedy,For so your doctors hold it very meet,Seeing too much sadness hath congealed your blood,And melancholy is the nurse of frenzy.Therefore they thought it good you hear a play,And frame your mind to mirth and merriment,Which bars a thousand harms and lenghtens life."

"Macbeth:If we should fail?Lady Macbeth:We fail?But screw your courage to the sticking place,And we'll not fail."

"And since you know you cannot see yourself,so well as by reflection, I, your glass,will modestly discover to yourself,that of yourself which you yet know not of."

"My Crown is in my heart, not on my head:Not deck'd with Diamonds, and Indian stones:Nor to be seen: my Crown is call'd Content,A Crown it is, that seldom Kings enjoy."

"You speak an infinite deal of nothing."

"Cucullus non facit monachum; that's as much to say, as I wear not motley in my brain."

"You gotta be cruel to be kind."

"It is not enough to speak but to speak truth."

"Tis mightiest in the mightiest it becomes The throned monarch better than his crown His sceptre shows the force of temporal power The attribute to awe and majesty Wherein doth sit the dread and fear of kings But mercy is above this sceptred sway It is enthroned in the hearts of kings It is an attribute to God himself And earthly power doth then show likest God's When mercy seasons justice."

"The clock upbraids me with the waste of time."

"A jest's prosperity lies in the ear Of him that hears it never in the tongue Of him that makes it."

"For in that sleep of death what dreams may come When we have shuffled off this mortal coil,Must give us pause."

"Sigh no more, ladies, sigh no more,Men were deceivers ever,-One foot in sea and one on shore,To one thing constant never."

"The grief that does not speak whispers the o'erfraught heart and bids it break."

"The soul of this man is his clothes."

"Honour pricks me on. Yea but how if honour prick me off when I come on? How then? Can honour set to a leg? No. Or an arm? No. Or take away the grief of a wound? No. Honour hath no skill in surgery then? No. What is honour? A word."

"Sermons in stones and good in every thing."

"Why should you think that I should woo in scorn?Scorn and derision never come in tears:Look, when I vow, I weep; and vows so born, In their nativity all truth appears.How can these things in me seem scorn to you,Bearing the badge of faith, to prove them true?"

"When words are scarce they are seldom spent in vain."

"We are such stuff as dreams are made on, and our little life is rounded with a sleep."

"As flies to wanton boys, are we to the gods; they kill us for their sport."

"Orsino: For, boy, however we do praise ourselves,Our fancies are more giddy and unfirm,More longing, wavering, sooner lost and won,Than women's are. ...For women are as roses, whose fair flow'rBeing once display'd doth fall that very hour.Viola: And so they are; alas, that they are so!To die, even when they to perfection grow!"

"An admirable evasion of whoremaster man, to lay his goatish disposition on the charge of a star!"