William Shakespeare Quotes
Come away, come away, Death, And in sad cypress let me be laid; Fly away, fly away, breath, I am slain by a fair cruel maid. My shroud of white stuck all with yew, O prepare it! My part of death no one so true did share it. Not a flower, not a flower sweet, On my black coffin let there be strewn: Not a friend, not a friend greet My poor corpse, where my bones shall be thrown. A thousand thousand sighs to save, lay me O where Sad true lover never find my grave, to weep there!
William Shakespeare
Quotes to Explore
The first job I ever had was at a pool-liner-manufacturing plant. Minimum wage was $4.25, and that's what I was making. It was this huge, hot, un-air-conditioned factory staffed with all women and me. This is in Georgia, during the summertime, so it was pretty ridiculous.
Jack McBrayer
It's really hard for me, every day, to confront my writing. It never gets easier over time.
Kate Christensen
The mistake of the West was to put the Sauds on the throne of Saudi Arabia and give them control of the world's oil fortune, which they then used to propagate Wahhabi Islam.
Salman Rushdie
Science without respect for human life is degrading to us all and reflects a hollow and deceptive philosophy, a philosophy that we as a people should never condone.
Nathan Deal
Dreams are not without meaning wherever thay may come from-from fantasy, from the elements, or from other inspiration.
Paracelsus
Broad-mindedness is related to tolerance; open-mindedness is the sibling of peace.
Salman Rushdie
I had 12 years in the Army before I ever faced combat.
Tammy Duckworth
The perfect square lacks corners.
Lao Tzu
If people knew how hard I worked at my art, they would not consider me a genius.
Michelangelo
I'm tall, fat, rather bald, red-faced, double-chinned, black-haired, have a deep voice, and wear glasses for reading.
C. S. Lewis
In another life, before taking the veil of journalistic purity, I practiced the black arts of a political operative, including 'debate prep.'
Jeff Greenfield
Come away, come away, Death, And in sad cypress let me be laid; Fly away, fly away, breath, I am slain by a fair cruel maid. My shroud of white stuck all with yew, O prepare it! My part of death no one so true did share it. Not a flower, not a flower sweet, On my black coffin let there be strewn: Not a friend, not a friend greet My poor corpse, where my bones shall be thrown. A thousand thousand sighs to save, lay me O where Sad true lover never find my grave, to weep there!
William Shakespeare
