But to my mind, though I am native here, And to the manner born, it is a custom, More honored in the breach than the observance.
William ShakespeareStay, my lord, And let your reason with your choler question What 'tis you go about: to climb steep hills Requires slow pace at first: anger is like A full-hot horse, who being allow'd his way, Self-mettle tires him. Not a man in England Can advise me like you: be to yourself As you would to your friend.
William ShakespeareLet never day nor night unhallowed pass, but still remember what the Lord hath done.
William ShakespeareWe few. We happy few. We band of brothers, for he today That sheds his blood with me Shall be my brother.
William ShakespeareThe quality of mercy is not strain'd, It droppeth as the gentle rain from heaven Upon the place beneath: it is twice blest; It blesseth him that gives and him that takes: 'Tis mightiest in the mightiest: it becomes The throned monarch better than his crown; His sceptre shows the force of temporal power, The attribute to awe and majesty, Wherein doth sit the dread and fear of kings; But mercy is above this sceptred sway; It is enthroned in the hearts of kings, It is an attribute to God himself; And earthly power doth then show likest God's When mercy seasons justice.
William Shakespeare