William Shakespeare

William Shakespeare

We have some salt of our youth in us.

I cannot tell what the dickens his name is.

Your hearts are mighty, your skins are whole.

This is the third time; I hope good luck lies in odd numbers.... There is divinity in odd numbers, either in nativity, chance, or death.

I would fain die a dry death.

Now would I give a thousand furlongs of sea for an acre of barren ground.

What seest thou else<br>In the dark backward and abysm of time?

I, thus neglecting worldly ends, all dedicated <br>To closeness and the bettering of my mind.

Like one <br>Who having into truth, by telling of it, <br>Made such a sinner of his memory, <br>To credit his own lie.

My library <br>Was dukedom large enough.

From the still-vexed Bermoothes.

I will be correspondent to command, And do my spiriting gently.

Fill all thy bones with aches.

Full fathom five thy father lies; <br>Of his bones are coral made; <br>Those are pearls that were his eyes: <br>Nothing of him that doth fade <br>But doth suffer a sea-change <br>Into something rich and strange.

The fringed curtains of thine eye advance.

A very ancient and fish-like smell.

He that dies pays all debts.

A kind <br>Of excellent dumb discourse.

Merrily, merrily shall I live now, <br>Under the blossom that hangs on the bough.

Home-keeping youth have ever homely wits.

O, how this spring of love resembleth <br>The uncertain glory of an April day!

That man that hath a tongue, I say, is no man,<br>If with his tongue he cannot win a woman.

How use doth breed a habit in a man!

Come not within the measure of my wrath.

Every man has his fault, and honesty is his.