“And yet by heaven I think my love as rare / as any that she belie with false compare
Sonnett CXXX, ll, 13-14”
“When down her weedy trophies and herself
Fell in the weeping brook. Her clothes spread wide
And, mermaid-like, awhile they bore her up:
Which time she chanted snatches of old tunes
As one incapable of her own distress,
Or like a creature native and indued
Unto that element: but long it could not be
Till that her garments, heavy with their drink,
Pull’d the poor wretch from her melodious lay
To muddy death.
(Ophelia)” - Hamlet
“When icicles hang by the wall,
And Dick the shepherd blows his nail,
And Tom bears logs into the hall,
And milk comes frozen home in pail,
When blood is nipp'd, and ways be foul,
Then nightly sings the staring owl,
To-whit! To-who!—a merry note,
While greasy Joan doth keel the pot.
When all aloud the wind doe blow,
And coughing drowns the parson's saw,
And birds sit brooding in the snow,
And Marian's nose looks red and raw,
When roasted crabs hiss in the bowl,
Then nightly sings the staring owl,
To-whit! To-who!—a merry note,
While greasy Joan doth keel the pot.” - Love's Labour's Lost
“They that have power to hurt and will do none,
That do not do the thing they most do show,
Who, moving others, are themselves as stone,
Unmoved, cold, and to temptation slow,
They rightly do inherit Heaven's graces,
And husband nature's riches from expense
They are the lords and owners of their faces,
Others but stewards of their excellence.
The summer's flow'r is to the summer sweet
Though to itself it only live and die
But if that flow'r with base infection meet,
The basest weed outbraves his dignity:
For sweetest things turn sourest by their deeds
Lillies that fester smell far worse than weeds.” - Sonnets
“I should think this a gull, but that the white-bearded fellow speaks it knavery cannot, sure, hide himself in such reverence.” - Much Ado About Nothing
Читать полностью…“O, speak again, bright angel, for thou art as glorious to this night, being o'er my head, as is a winged messenger of heaven
Unto the white-upturned wond'ring eyes
Of mortals fall back to gaze on him.” - Romeo and Juliet
“I am not only witty in myself, but the cause that wit is in other men.” - Henry IV, Part 2
Читать полностью…“I should think this a gull, but that the white-bearded fellow speaks it knavery cannot, sure, hide himself in such reverence.” - Much Ado About Nothing
Читать полностью…“Men are April when they woo, December when they wed. Maids are May when they are maids, but the sky changes when they are wives.” - As You Like It
Читать полностью…“Thus I die. Thus, thus, thus.
Now I am dead,
Now I am fled,
My soul is in the sky.
Tongue, lose thy light.
Moon take thy flight.
Now die, die, die, die.” - A Midsummer Night's Dream
“And worse I may be yet: the worst is not
So long as we can say 'This is the worst.” - King Lear
“The sins of the father are to be laid upon the children.” - The Merchant of Venice
Читать полностью…“I am settled, and bend up each corporal agent to this terrible feat. Away, and mock the time with fairest show: False face must hide what the false heart doth know.” - Macbeth
Читать полностью…“I will tell you why so shall my anticipation
Prevent your discovery, and your secrecy to the king
And queen moult no feather. I have of late--but
Wherefore I know not--lost all my mirth, forgone all
Custom of exercises and indeed it goes so heavily
With my disposition that this goodly frame, the
Earth, seems to me a sterile promontory, this most
Excellent canopy, the air, look you, this brave
O'erhanging firmament, this majestical roof fretted
With golden fire, why, it appears no other thing to
Me than a foul and pestilent congregation of vapours.
What a piece of work is a man! how noble in reason!
How infinite in faculty! in form and moving how
Express and admirable! in action how like an angel!
In apprehension how like a god! the beauty of the
World! the paragon of animals! And yet, to me,
What is this quintessence of dust? man delights not
Me: no, nor woman neither, though by your smiling
You seem to say so.” - Hamlet
“But jealous souls will not be answered so.
They are not ever jealous for the cause,
But jealous for they’re jealous. It is a monster
Begot upon itself, born on itself.” - Othello
“Never he will not:
Age cannot wither her, nor custom stale
Her infinite variety: other women cloy
The appetites they feed: but she makes hungry
Where most she satisfies”