Famous Love Quotes - Our inspirational quotes

My plenteous joys, Wanton in fullness, seek to hide themselves In drops of sorrow.

Therefore I say again I utterly abhor, yea, from my soul Refuse you for my judge, whom yet once more I hold my most malicious for and think not At all a friend to truth.

Heaven is above all yet; there sits a judge That no king can corrupt.

O, let her brother live: Thieves for the robbery have authority When judges steal themselves.

He who the sword of heaven will bear Should be as holy as severe; Pattern in himself to know, Grace to stand, and virtue go; More nor less to others paying Than by self-offenses weighing. Shame to him whose cruel striking Kills for faults of his own liking.

To offend and judge are distinct offices, And of opposed natures.

It doth appear you are a worthy judge; You know the law, your exposition Hath been most sound.

A little more than kin, and less than kind!

Have you the heart? When your head did but ache, I knit my handkercher about your brows-- The best I had, a princess wrought it me-- And I did never ask it you again; And with my hand at midnight held your head, And like the watchful minutes to the hour, Still and anon cheered up the heavy time, Saying, 'What lack you?' and 'Where lies your grief?'

Yet do I fear thy nature. It is too full o' th' milk of human kindness To catch the nearest way.

Rich gifts wax poor when givers prove unkind.

I think the King is but a man as I am: the violet smells to him as it doth to me.

There's never a villain dwelling in all Denmark But he's an arrant knave.

A knave, a rascal, an eater of broken meats; a base, proud, shallow, beggarly, three-suited, hundred-pound, filthy worsted-stocking knave; a lily-livered, action-faking, whoreson, glass-gazing, superserviceable, finical rogue; one-trunk-inheriting slave; one that wouldst be a bawd in way of good service, and art nothing but the composition of a knave, beggar, coward, pander, and the son and heir of a mongrel bitch; one whom I will beat into clamorous whining if thou deny'st the least syllable of thy addition.

Whip me such honest knaves!

Knowledge is the wing whereby we fly to Heaven.

Fie, fie upon her! There's language in her eye, her cheek, her lip; Nay, her foot speaks. Her wanton spirits look out At every joint and motive of her body.

Thou whoreson zed, thou unnecessary letter!

He has strangled His language in his tears.

You taught me language, and my profit on't Is, I know how to curse. The red plague rid you For learning me your language!