The prize of all too precious you. William Shakespeare More Quotes by William Shakespeare More Quotes From William Shakespeare Lord, Lord, how this world is given to lying! William Shakespeare liarslyingworld Tis time to fear when tyrants seem to kiss. William Shakespeare tyrantskissingwar You told a lie, an odious damned lie; Upon my soul, a lie, a wicked lie. William Shakespeare wickedsoullying Ingratitude is monstrous. William Shakespeare monstrousinspirational-christmasgratitude The coward dies a thousand deaths, the valiant, only once! William Shakespeare armscowardcourage Give to a gracious message An host of tongues, but let ill tidings tell Themselves when they be felt. William Shakespeare tonguenewsgiving The teeming Autumn big with rich increase, bearing the wanton burden of the prime like widowed wombs after their lords decease. William Shakespeare autumnrichlord Desperate times breed desperate measures William Shakespeare desperate-timesdesperate-measuresproblem At this hour Lie at my mercy all mine enemies. William Shakespeare revengelyingenemy Time is like a fashionable host William Shakespeare gueststimehands Like as the waves make towards the pebbled shore, William Shakespeare toilwavetime And send him many years of sunshine days! William Shakespeare sunshinebirthdayyears Tis in ourselves that we are thus or thus. Our bodies are our gardens to the which our wills are gardeners. William Shakespeare healthgardenmotivational Corruption wins not more than honesty. Still in thy right hand carry gentle peace, To silence envious tongues. William Shakespeare honestywinningpeace Abate the edge of traitors, gracious Lord, William Shakespeare landbookblood Ay, but to die and go we know not where; To lie in cold obstrution and to rot; This sensible warm motion to become A kneaded clod; and the delighted spirit To bathe in fiery floods or to reside In thrilling regions of thick-ribbed ice; To be imprison'd in the viewless winds, And blown with restless violence round about The pendant world. William Shakespeare icedeathlying The ides of March are come. Soothsayer: Ay, Caesar; but not gone. William Shakespeare ides-of-marchmarchgone Who knows himself a braggart, Let him fear this; for it will come to pass That every braggart will be found an ass. William Shakespeare braggingassfound I 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 Shakespeare nicefightingmen But flies an eagle flight, bold and forth on, Leaving no tract behind. William Shakespeare eaglesleavingbird
