Hell is empty and all the devils are here.
We know what we are, but not what we may be.
When he shall die, Take him and cut him out in little stars, And he will make the face of heaven so fine That all the world will be in love with night And pay no worship to the garish sun.
Words are easy, like the wind; Faithful friends are hard to find.
You speak an infinite deal of nothing.
Cowards die many times before their deaths; The valiant never taste of death but once. Of all the wonders that I yet have heard, It seems to me most strange that men should fear; Seeing that death, a necessary end, Will come when it will come.
My tongue will tell the anger of my heart, or else my heart concealing it will break.
My only love sprung from my only hate! Too early seen unknown, and known too late! Prodigious birth of love it is to me, That I must love a loathed enemy.
These violent delights have violent ends And in their triump die, like fire and powder Which, as they kiss, consume.
Lord, what fools these mortals be!
All that glisters is not gold; Often have you heard that told: Many a man his life hath sold But my outside to behold: Gilded tombs do worms enfold.
The course of true love never did run smooth.
Dispute not with her: she is lunatic.
Oh, I have slipped the surly bonds of earth, And danced the skies on laughter-silvered wings.
To die, to sleep – To sleep, perchance to dream – ay, there’s the rub, For in this sleep of death what dreams may come...
Don’t waste your love on somebody who doesn’t value it.
Did my heart love till now? forswear it, sight! For I ne’er saw true beauty till this night.
Sigh no more, ladies, sigh no more, Men were deceivers ever,- One foot in sea and one on shore, To one thing constant never.
I like this place and could willingly waste my time in it.
Our doubts are traitors, and make us lose the good we oft might win, by fearing to attempt.