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

Never durst poet touch a pen to write Until his ink were temper'd with Love's sighs.

Dumb jewels often, in their silent kind, more than quick words, do move a woman's mind.

Pleasure and action make the hours seem short.

Do you set down your name in the scroll of youth, that are written down old with all the characters of age?

POLONIUS: What do you read, my lord? HAMLET: Words, words, words.

Love is a wonderful, terrible thing