Age cannot wither her nor custom stale her infinite variety other women cloy the appetites they feed but she makes hungry where most she satisfies.

— William Shakespeare

A good Sherri-sack hath a twofold operation in it. It ascends me into the brain, dries me there all the foolish and dull and crude vapors which environ it, makes it apprehensive, quick, forgive, full of nimble, fiery, and delectable shapes, which, delivered o'er to the voice, the tongue, which is the birth, becomes excellent wit.

— William Shakespeare

A horse! A horse! My kingdom for a horse!

— William Shakespeare

A jest's prosperity lies in the ear Of him that hears it never in the tongue Of him that makes it.

— William Shakespeare

A knavish speech sleeps in a fool's ear.

— William Shakespeare

Alack, sir, no; her passions are made of nothing but the finest part of pure love. We cannot call her winds and waters sighs and tears; they are greater storms and tempests than almanacs can report: this cannot be cunning in her; if it is, she makes a shower of rain as well as Jove.

— William Shakespeare

Alack, there lies more peril in thine eye Than twenty of their swords: look thou but sweet, And I am proof against their enmity.

— William Shakespeare

Alack, when once our grace we have forgotten, Nothing goes right; we would and we would not.

— William Shakespeare

Alas, my lord, your wisdom is consumed in confidence.

— William Shakespeare

Alas, poor Yo rick! I knew him Horatio: a fellow of infinite jest of most excellent fancy.

— William Shakespeare