William Shakespeare

I had rather be a dog, and bay the moon, Than such a Roman.

The lady doth protest too much, methinks.

A plague o' both your houses!

Hell is empty and all the devils are here.

What's in a name? That which we call a rose By any other name would smell as sweet.

Our bodies are our gardens, to the which our wills are gardeners.

The earth has bubbles, as the water has, And these are of them.

Striving to better, oft we mar what's well.

The very substance of the ambitious is merely the shadow of a dream.

I had rather have a fool to make me merry than experience to make me sad.

The devil can cite Scripture for his purpose.

If you prick us, do we not bleed? If you tickle us, do we not laugh? If you poison us, do we not die? And if you wrong us, shall we not revenge?

We are time's subjects, and time bids be gone.

Sweet are the uses of adversity, Which, like the toad, ugly and venomous, Wears yet a precious jewel in his head.

Assume a virtue, if you have it not.

The lunatic, the lover, and the poet Are of imagination all compact.

Things without all remedy Should be without regard: what's done is done.

There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, Than are dreamt of in your philosophy.

The evil that men do lives after them; The good is oft interred with their bones.

Cowards die many times before their deaths; The valiant never taste of death but once.