For where thou art, there is the world itself, With every several pleasure in the world, And where thou art not, desolation.
William ShakespeareSilence 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.
William ShakespeareOh, she doth teach the torches to burn bright! It seems she hangs upon the cheek of night Like a rich jewel in an Ethiopeโs ear, Beauty too rich for use, for earth too dear. So shows a snowy dove trooping with crows As yonder lady o'er her fellows shows. The measure done, Iโll watch her place of stand, And, touching hers, make blessรจd my rude hand. Did my heart love till now? Forswear it, sight! For I ne'er saw true beauty till this night.
William ShakespeareHe that commends me to mine own content Commends me to the thing I cannot get. I to the world am like a drop of water That in the ocean seeks another drop, Who, falling there to find his fellow forth, Unseen, inquisitive, confounds himself: So I, to find a mother and a brother, In quest of them, unhappy, lose myself.
William Shakespeare