O! for a muse of fire, that would asce.. William Shakespeare

O! for a muse of fire, that would ascend the brightest heaven of invention.

William Shakespeare

Profession: Dramatist
Nationality: British

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Death, that hath suck'd the honey of thy breath hath had no power yet upon thy beauty.

Alack, sir, no; her passions are made of nothing but the finest part of pure love. We cannot call her winds and waters sighs and tears; they are greater storms and tempests than almanacs can report: this cannot be cunning in her; if it be, she makes a shower of rain as well as Jove.

Refrain tonight and thou shalt lend a kind of easiness to the next abstinence, the next more easy. for use almost can change the stamp of nature, and either master the Devil, or throw him out with wondrous potency.

There's little of the melancholy element in her, my lord: she is never sad but when she sleeps; and not ever sad then; for I have heard my daughter say, she hath often dreamt of unhappiness, and waked herself with laughing.

He sits high in all the people's hearts, And that which would appear offense in us, His countenance, like richest alchemy, Will change to virtue and to worthiness.

No, good my lord; let's fight with gentle words Till time lend friends, and friends their helpful swords.

And we must take the current when it serves, Or lose our ventures.

A friend should bear his friend's infirmities.

Ay, the heads of the maids, or their maidenheads.

Sleep kill those pretty eyes, And give as soft attachment to thy senses As infants' empty of all thought!

Look here upon this picture, and on this...

But jealous souls will not be answer'd so; They are not ever jealous for the cause, But jealous for they are jealous: ‘tis a monster Begot upon itself, born on itself.

O, what a goodly outside falsehood hath!

Love is too young to know what conscience is.

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