Let me not to the marriage of true mindsAdmit impediments. Love is not loveWhich alters when it alteration finds,Or bends with the remover to remove:O, no! it is an ever-fixed mark,That looks on tempests and is never shaken;It is the star to every wandering bark,Whose worth’s unknown, although his height be taken.Love’s not Time’s fool, though rosy lips and cheeksWithin his bending sickle’s compass come;Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,But bears it out even to the edge of doom.If this be error and upon me prov’d,I never writ, nor no man ever lov’d.
Love
Shakespeare love quotes
The best-known lines about love from Shakespeare's plays and sonnets, as they appear in the original text. There is Sonnet 116 for a wedding, Sonnet 18 for a card, Juliet on a love as boundless as the sea, Hamlet's love letter and the line about the course of true love from A Midsummer Night's Dream. Most are short enough for a card, a vow or an engraving. Shakespeare's spelling and punctuation are kept exactly as printed, and each passage names the play and scene so you can find it.
Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day?Thou art more lovely and more temperate:Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,And summer’s lease hath all too short a date:Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines,And often is his gold complexion dimm’d,And every fair from fair sometime declines,By chance, or nature’s changing course untrimm’d:But thy eternal summer shall not fade,Nor lose possession of that fair thou ow’st,Nor shall death brag thou wander’st in his shade,When in eternal lines to time thou grow’st,So long as men can breathe, or eyes can see,So long lives this, and this gives life to thee.
My bounty is as boundless as the sea,My love as deep; the more I give to thee,The more I have, for both are infinite.
Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind;And therefore is wing’d Cupid painted blind.
For aught that I could ever read,Could ever hear by tale or history,The course of true love never did run smooth.
Doubt thou the stars are fire,Doubt that the sun doth move,Doubt truth to be a liar,But never doubt I love.
What’s in a name? That which we call a roseBy any other name would smell as sweet;So Romeo would, were he not Romeo call’d,Retain that dear perfection which he owesWithout that title.
Good night, good night. Parting is such sweet sorrowThat I shall say good night till it be morrow.
If music be the food of love, play on,Give me excess of it; that, surfeiting,The appetite may sicken and so die.
O mistress mine, where are you roaming?O stay and hear, your true love’s coming,That can sing both high and low.Trip no further, pretty sweeting.Journeys end in lovers meeting,Every wise man’s son doth know.
When in disgrace with fortune and men’s eyesI all alone beweep my outcast state,And trouble deaf heaven with my bootless cries,And look upon myself, and curse my fate,Wishing me like to one more rich in hope,Featur’d like him, like him with friends possess’d,Desiring this man’s art, and that man’s scope,With what I most enjoy contented least;Yet in these thoughts my self almost despising,Haply I think on thee, and then my state,Like to the lark at break of day arisingFrom sullen earth, sings hymns at heaven’s gate;For thy sweet love remember’d such wealth bringsThat then I scorn to change my state with kings.
To me, fair friend, you never can be old,For as you were when first your eye I ey’d,Such seems your beauty still.
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