Go to your bosom;
Knock there, and ask your heart what it doth know.
To begin, begin.
Simply the thing I am
shall make me live.
Full many a glorious morning
have I seen.
I dance attendance here.
I am in a holiday humour.
The babbling gossip of the air.
Society is no comfort
To one not sociable.
To make society
the sweeter welcome, we will keep ourself
Till supper-time alone.
Thus play I, in one person, many people,
And none contented.
How camest thou
in this pickle?
Find out the cause of this effect,
Or rather say, the cause of this defect,
For this effect defective comes by cause.
There is occasions and causes
why and wherefore
in all things.
My salad days,
When I was green in judgement.
O, had I but followed the arts!
Allow not nature more than nature needs.
There's place and means for every man alive.
Is it a world to hide virtues in?
Come, give us a taste of your quality.
Have more than thou showest,
Speak less than thou knowest.
I could be bounded in a nutshell
and count myself a king of infinite space,
were it not that I have bad dreams.
There is no darkness but ignorance.
Life's uncertain voyage.
The web of our life is of a mingled yarn, good and ill together.
How full of briers is this working-day world!
Two stars keep not their motion
in one sphere.
We cannot cross the cause why we were born.
That sad companion, dull-eyed melancholy.
Fish not, with this melancholy bait
What e'er you are
That in this desert inaccessible,
Under the shade of melancholy boughs,
Lose and neglect the creeping hours of time.
When clouds are seen
wise men put on their cloaks.
Many can brook the weather
that love not the wind.
It is an ever-fixed mark
that looks on tempests and
is never shaken.
Every cloud engenders not a storm.
Sweet are the uses of adversity.
Come what may, Time and the hour runs through the roughest day.
There is no time so miserable
but a man may be true.
Let me embrace thee, sour adversity,
for wise men say it is the wisest course.
You must confine yourself
within the modest limits of order.
Give thy thoughts no tongue,
Nor any unproportioned thought his act.
Things without remedy, should be without regard;
what is done, is done.
Wise men ne'er sit and wail their loss,
But cheerily seek how to redress their harms.
I have forgiven and forgotten all.
The robbed that smiles, steals something from the thief.
Your mind is tossing on the ocean.
A turn or two I'll walk
To still my beating mind.
Nothing is,
unless our thinking makes it so.
Down, thy climbing sorrow,
Thy element's below.
Tis not the many oaths that make the truth;
but the plain single vow, that is vowed true.
It is a good divine
that follows his own instructions.
O heaven! were man But constant, he were perfect. That one error Fills him with faults; makes him run through all the sins: Inconstancy falls off ere it begins.
I have not kept my square,
but that to come
Shall be done by the rule.
My resolution's placed, and I have nothing Of woman in me: now from head to foot I am marble-constant: now the fleeting moon No planet is of mine.
But I am constant as the northern star,
of whose true fixed and resting quality
there is no fellow in the firmament.
Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow
Creeps in this pretty pace from day to day
To the last syllable of recorded time.
What's past is prologue.
Be patient
for the world
is broad and wide.
Have patience and endure.
Much rain wears the marble.
I'll be as patient as a gentle stream.
I will be the pattern of all patience.
I am the very pink of courtesy.
The mirror of all courtesy.
Truth need no colour, beauty no pencil.
He hath a daily beauty in his life.
Virtue is beauty.
A woman's face with Nature's own hand painted.
A woman is a dish for the gods,
if the devil dress her not.
She looks as clear As morning roses newly washed with dew.
She doth teach the torches to burn bright.
Light seeking light doth light of light beguile.
How far the little candle throws his beams! So shines a good deed in a naughty world.
A deed without a name.
My nature is subdued To what it works in, like the dyer's hand.
They say best men are moulded out of faults
And for the most, much more the better
For being a little bad.
In thy face I see
The map of honor, truth, and loyalty.
Perseverance, dear my lord, keeps honor bright.
But if it be a sin to covet honor,
I am the most offending soul alive.
Mine honour is my life; both grow in one;
Take honour from me and my life is done.
The purest treasure mortal time afford Is spotless reputation; that away, Men are but gilded loam or painted clay.
He sits high in all the people's hearts.
There's nothing ill can dwell in such temple.
In simple and pure soul
I come to you.
The elements by kind to thee, and make
Thy spirits all of comfort.
Love comforteth like sunshine after rain.
Let all the number of stars
give light to thy fair way.
My heart is ever at your service.
Fortune brings in some boats
that are not steer'd.
Let me tell the world.
Mend your speech a little, Lest you may mar your fortunes.
Harp not on that string.
Talkers are no good doers.
Answer me in one word.
Give me a key for this,
And instantly unlock my fortunes here.
We burn daylight.
Defer no time,
delays have dangerous ends.
Let us make honorable retreat.
What cannot be avoided
'Twer childish weakness to lament or fear.
The true beginning of our end.
There's no art
To find the mind's construction
in the face.
Look in thy glass, and tell the face thou viewest,
Now is the time that face should form another.
I thank you for your voices, thank you,
Your most sweet voices.
A thousand thanks.
I would applaud thee
to the very echo.
I'll note you in my book of memory.
His life was gentle.
Let gentleness my strong enforcement be!
A maid of grace And complete majesty.
The silence often of pure innocence
Persuades when speaking fails.
The grass stoops not, she treads on it so light.
Good grows with her.
All places that the eye of heaven visits Are to a wise man ports and happy havens.
Love looks not with the eyes,
but with the mind.
You shall see wonders
Be thou the tenth Muse.
To hold, as t'were, the
mirror up to nature.
Thou, nature, art my goddess;
to thy laws my services are bound.
O let me teach you how to knit again
This scattered corn into one mutual sheaf
These broken limbs again into one body.
The earth has music for those who listen.
Stones have been known to move
and trees to speak.
And this, our life,
exempt from public haunts,
finds tongues in trees, books in running brooks,
sermons in stones,
and good in everything.
The jewel that we can find, we stoop and take't,
Because we see it; but what we do not see,
We tread upon, and never think of it.
Of all knowledge,
the wise and good seek most to know themselves.
There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio,
Than are dreamt of in your philosophy.
I could be bound in a nutshell
and count myself a king of infinite space.
He wants nothing of a god
but eternity and a heaven to throne in.
Our content is our best having.
A light heart lives long.
My crown is called content,
a crown that seldom kings enjoy.
I bear a charmed life.
Silence is the perfectest herald of joy.
I were but little happy if I could say how much.
Who is it that says more? which can say more than this rich praise - that you alone are you?
How many things by season season'd are
To their right praise and true perfection.
When I consider everything that growes
Holds in perfection but a little moment
The purest spring
is not so free from mud.
Bring with thee air from heaven
or blasts from hell.
The thing of darkness
I acknowledge mine.
Truth is truth To th’end of reck’ning.
I have not kept my square; but that to come Shall all be done by the rule.
