William Shakespeare

"If this be magic, let it be an art lawful as eating."

"Small herbs have grace, great weeds to grow apace."

"Things at the worst will cease, or else climb upward To what they were before."

"​Sebastian: By your patience, no. My stars shine darkly over me; the malignancy of my fate might, perhaps, distemper yours; therefore I shall carve of you your leave that I may bear my evils alone. It were a bad recompense for your love to lay any of them on you."

"Is there no pity sitting in the clouds that sees into the bottom of my grief?"

"for my grief's so great That no supporter but the huge firm earth Can hold it up: here I and sorrows sit;Here is my throne, bid kings come bow to it.(Constance, from King John, Act III, scene 1)"

"“To be, or not to be: that is the question:Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune,Or to take arms against a sea of troubles,And by opposing end them? To die: to sleep;No more; and by a sleep to say we end The heart-ache and the thousand natural shocks That flesh is heir to, 'tis a consummation Devoutly to be wish'd. To die, to sleep;To sleep: perchance to dream: ay, there's the rub;For in that sleep of death what dreams may come When we have shuffled off this mortal coil,Must give us pause: there's the respect That makes calamity of so long life;For who would bear the whips and scorns of time,The oppressor's wrong, the proud man's contumely,The pangs of despised love, the law's delay,The insolence of office and the spurns That patient merit of the unworthy takes,When he himself might his quietus make With a bare bodkin? who would fardels bear,To grunt and sweat under a weary life,But that the dread of something after death,The undiscover'd country from whose bourn No traveller returns, puzzles the will And makes us rather bear those ills we have Than fly to others that we know not of?Thus conscience does make cowards of us all;And thus the native hue of resolution Is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought,And enterprises of great pith and moment With this regard their currents turn awry,And lose the name of action.--Soft you now!The fair Ophelia! Nymph, in thy orisons Be all my sins remember'd!”"

"“If music be the food of love, play on;Give me excess of it, that, surfeiting,The appetite may sicken, and so die. That strain again! it had a dying fall:O, it came o'er my ear like the sweet sound,That breathes upon a bank of violets,Stealing and giving odour! Enough; no more:'Tis not so sweet now as it was before. O spirit of love! how quick and fresh art thou,That, notwithstanding thy capacity Receiveth as the sea, nought enters there,Of what validity and pitch soe'er,But falls into abatement and low price,Even in a minute: so full of shapes is fancy That it alone is high fantastical.”"

"“The fool doth think he is wise, but the wise man knows himself to be a fool.”"

"There is nothing in the world so much like prayer as music is. ~William Shakespeare"

"Oft have I heard that grief softens the mind, And makes it fearful and degenerate; Think therefore on revenge and cease to weep."

"“Love all, trust a few,Do wrong to none: be able for thine enemy Rather in power than use; and keep thy friend Under thy own life's key: be check'd for silence,But never tax'd for speech.”"

"“Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind; And therefore is wing'd Cupid painted blind. Nor hath love's mind of any judgment taste; Wings and no eyes figure unheedy haste: And therefore is love said to be a child, Because in choice he is so oft beguil'd.”"

"POLONIUS : My Lord, I will use them according to their desert. HAMLET : God's bodykins man, better. Use every man after his desert, and who should 'scape whipping? Use them after your own honour and dignity. The less they deserve, the more merit is in your bounty."

"What we are is not all that we may become."

"It is not in the stars to hold our destiny but in ourselves."

"O God, that I were a man! I would eat his heart in the marketplace."

"Silence is the herald of joy"

"BOYETA mark! O, mark but that mark! A mark, says my lady!Let the mark have a prick in't, to mete at, if it may be. MARIAWide o' the bow hand! i' faith, your hand is out. COSTARDIndeed, a' must shoot nearer, or he'll ne'er hit the clout. BOYETAn if my hand be out, then belike your hand is in. COSTARDThen will she get the upshoot by cleaving the pin. MARIACome, come, you talk greasily; your lips grow foul. COSTARDShe's too hard for you at pricks, sir: challenge her to bowl. BOYETI fear too much rubbing. Good night, my good owl. Exeunt BOYET and MARIA"

"In Antiochus and his daughter you have heard of monstrous lust the due and just reward; In Pericles, his queen, and daughter, seen, Although assailed with fortune fierce and keen, Virtue preserved from fell destruction's blast, Led on by heaven, and crowned with joy at last."