Time travels at different speeds for different people. I can tell you who time strolls for, who it trots for, who it gallops for, and who it stops cold for.
William ShakespeareIt is the purpose that makes strong the vow; But vows to every purpose must not hold.
William ShakespeareThis fellow is wise enough to play the fool; And to do that well craves a kind of wit: He must observe their mood on whom he jests, The quality of persons, and the time, And, like the haggard, check at every feather That comes before his eye. This is a practise As full of labour as a wise man's art For folly that he wisely shows is fit; But wise men, folly-fall'n, quite taint their wit.
William ShakespeareI will be treble-sinewed, hearted, breathed, And fight maliciously; for when mine hours Were nice and lucky, men did ransom lives Of me for jests; but now I'll set my teeth And send to darkness all that stop me.
William ShakespeareCowards die many times before their deaths; the valiant never taste of death but once.
William ShakespeareSweet love! Sweet lines! Sweet life! Here is her hand, the agent of her heart; Here is her oath for love, her honour's pawn
William ShakespeareO, speak again, bright angel! for thou art As glorious to this night, being o'er my head As is a winged messenger of heaven
William ShakespeareWhen heaven doth weep, doth not the earth o'erflow? If the winds rage, doth not the sea wax mad, Threatening the welkin with his big-swoln face? And wilt thou have a reason for this coil? I am the sea; hark, how her sighs do blow! She is the weeping welkin, I the earth: Then must my sea be moved with her sighs; Then must my earth with her continual tears Become a deluge, overflow'd and drown'd: For why my bowels cannot hide her woes, But like a drunkard must I vomit them. Then give me leave, for losers will have leave To ease their stomachs with their bitter tongues.
William ShakespeareThe band that seems to tie their friendship together will be the very strangler of their amity.
William ShakespeareBlest are those Whose blood and judgment are so well commingled, That they are not a pipe for fortune's finger To sound what stop she please.
William ShakespeareDeath makes no conquest of this conqueror: For now he lives in fame, though not in life.
William ShakespeareA man in all the world's new fashion planted, That hath a mint of phrases in his brain.
William ShakespeareGnarling sorrow hath less power to bite The man that mocks at it and sets it light.
William ShakespeareThat skull had a tongue in it, and could sing once: how the knave jowls it to the ground, as if it were Cain's jaw-bone, that did the first murder! It might be the pate of a politician, which this ass now o'er-reaches; one that would circumvent God, might it not?
William Shakespeare