A, but to die, and go we know not where;To lie in cold obstruction and to rot;This sensible warm motion to become kneaded clod; and the delighted spirit To bathe in fiery floods, or to reside In thrilling region of thick-ribbed ice;To be imprison'd in the viewless winds, And blown with restless violence round about The pendent world; or to be worse than worst Of those that lawless and uncertain thought Imagine howling: 'tis too horrible! The weariest and most loathed worldly life That age, ache, penury and imprisonment Can lay on nature is a paradise To what we fear of death.

— William Shakespeare

A countenance more in sorrow than in anger.

— William Shakespeare

[Act 5, Scene 4, ROSALIND] If I were a woman I would kiss as many of you as had beards that pleased me, complexions that liked me and breaths that I defied not: and, I am sure, as many as have good beards or good faces or sweet breaths will, for my kind offer, when I make curtsy, bid me farewell.

— William Shakespeare

Action is eloquence.

— William Shakespeare

A Daniel come to judgment! Yea a Daniel! O wise young judge how I do honor thee!

— William Shakespeare

Adversity's sweet milk philosophy.

— William Shakespeare

Affliction is enamored of thy parts, And thou art wedded to calamity.

— William Shakespeare

A fool's bolt is soon shot.

— William Shakespeare

A friend should bear his friend's infirmities.

— William Shakespeare

Age cannot wither her nor custom stale Her infinite variety.

— William Shakespeare