Now if these men do not die well, it will be a black matter for the king who led them to it.
Quote by Shakespeare
Give every man thy ear, but few thy voice.
The lunatic, the lover, and the poet, are of imagination all compact.
My nature is subdued to what it works in, like the dyer's hand
Let no such man be trusted.
Each substance of a grief hath twenty shadows
When to the sessions of sweet silent thought I summon up remembrance of things past,...
In a false quarrel there is no true valour.
They have a plentiful lack of wit
Oft expectation fails, and most oft where most it promises; and oft it hits where...
Security is the chief enemy of mortals.
The undiscovered country form whose born no traveler returns.
Love is my sin, and thy dear virtue hate, Hate of my sin, grounded on...
My love as deep; the more I give to thee, the more I have, both...
Mud not the fountain that gave drink to thee.
Feed on her damask cheek: she pined in thought, And with a green and yellow...
To be or not to be that is the question. Whether 'tis nobler in the...
Our remedies oft in ourselves do lie.
One sees more devils than vast hell can hold
Talking isn't doing. It is a kind of good deed to say well; and yet...
The lady doth protest too much, methinks.