William Shakespeare

The moon shines bright. In such a night as this. When the sweet wind did gently kiss the trees and they did make no noise, in such a night.

Can I go forward when my heart is here?

Demetrius: Villain, what hast thou done? Aaron: That which thou canst not undo. Chiron: Thou hast undone our mother. Aaron: Villain, I have done thy mother.

You may my Glories and my State depose, But not my Griefes; still am I King of those.

The art of our necessities is strange That can make vile things precious.

O God of battles! steel my soldiers’ hearts. Possess them not with fear.

For man is a giddy thing, and this is my conclusion.

Can I go forward when my heart is here? Turn back, dull earth, and find thy centre out.

Love is my sin, and thy dear virtue hate, Hate of my sin, grounded on sinful loving.

Sometimes when we are labeled, when we are branded our brand becomes our calling.

It is not night when I do see your face, Therefore I think I am not in the night; Nor doth this wood lack worlds of company, For you in my respect are all the world: Then how can it be said I am alone, When all the world is here to look on me?

I am the Prince of Wales; and think not, Percy, To share with me in glory any more: Two stars keep not their motion in one sphere.

Were't not for laughing, I should pity him.

Believe then, if you please, that I can do strange things. [Act 5, Scene 2]

Demand me nothing: what you know, you know.

DEMETRIUS Relent, sweet Hermia: and, Lysander, yield Thy crazed title to my certain right. LYSANDER You have her father's love, Demetrius; Let me have Hermia's: do you marry him.

It is not politic in the commonwealth of nature to preserve virginity. Loss of virginity is rational increase, and there was never virgin got till virginity was first lost. That you were made of is metal to make virgins. Virginity, by being once lost, may be ten times found: by being ever kept, it is ever lost. ’Tis too cold a companion: away with ’t!

Silence is the perfectest herald of joy: I were but little happy, if I could say how much. Lady, as you are mine, I am yours: I give away myself for you and dote upon the exchange.

Four days will quickly steep themselves in nights; Four nights will quickly dream away the time; And then the moon, like to a silver bow new bent in heaven, shall behold the night of our solemnities.

Rumour is a pipe Blown by surmises, jealousies, conjectures And of so easy and so plain a stop That the blunt monster with uncounted heads, The still-discordant wavering multitude, Can play upon it.

Woe, destruction, ruin, and decay; the worst is death and death will have his day.