William Shakespeare

Sure he that made us with such large discourse, looking before and after, gave us not that capability and godlike reason to fust in us unused.

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?

Love all, trust a few, do wrong to none.

If we shadows have offended,
Think but this and all is mended,
That you have but slumbered here,
While these visions have appeared,
And this weak and idle theme,
No more yielding but a dream.

"I could be bounded in a nutshell and count myself a king of infinite space."

I kissed thee ere I killed thee, no way but this, killing myself to die upon a kiss.

Why, let the strucken deer go weep,
     The hart ungalled play.
For some must watch, while some must sleep;
      Thus runs the world away.

And when I shall die,
take him and cut him up in little stars,
and he will make the face of heaven so fine
that all the world will fall in love with night
and pay no worship to the garish sun.

The web of our life is a mingled yarn, good and ill together

If it be now, 'tis not to come; if it be not to come, it will be now; if it be not now, yet it will come.

The readiness is all.