The weariest and most loathed worldly life, that age, ache, penury and imprisonment can lay on nature is a paradise, to what we fear of death.
Quote by Shakespeare
To be a well-flavored man is the gift of fortune, but to write or read...
I was adored once too.
Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind, And therefore is winged Cupid...
True hope is swift, and flies with swallow's wings
My resolution's placed, and I have nothing Of woman in me; now from head to...
If you have tears, prepare to shed them now.
Every thing that grows Holds in perfection but a little moment
Desire of having is the sin of covetousness.
In sleep a king, but, waking, no such matter
Love is a smoke made with the fume of sighs. Being purged, a fire sparkling...
There is no darkness but ignorance.
Let no such man be trusted.
I dote on his very absence.
He does it with better grace, but I do it more natural.
Ingratitude is monstrous
My comfort is, that old age, that ill layer-up of beauty, can do no more...
Go, write it in a martial hand; be curst and brief; it is no matter...
Better three hours too soon than a minute too late.
There's not a note of mine that's worth the noting.
If you prick us do we not bleed? If you tickle us do we not...