Moderate lamentation is the right of the dead, excessive grief the enemy to the living. William Shakespeare (1564 – 1616)

Moderate lamentation is the right of the dead, excessive grief the enemy to the living. William Shakespeare (1564 – 1616)
I like your silence, it the more shows off Your wonder. William Shakespeare (1564 – 1616)
Nature is made better by no mean But nature makes that mean: so, over that art Which you say adds to nature, is an art That nature makes. William Shakespeare (1564 – 1616)
I cannot be Mine own, nor any thing to any, if I be not thine. William Shakespeare (1564 – 1616)
If powers divine Behold our human actions, as they do, I doubt not then but innocence shall make False accusation blush, and tyranny Tremble at patience. William Shakespeare (1564 – 1616)
There is a sickness Which puts some of us in distemper, but I cannot name the disease; and it is caught Of you that yet are well. William Shakespeare (1564 – 1616)
Your changed complexions are to me a mirror Which shows me mine changed too; for I must be A party in this alteration, finding Myself thus alter’d with’t. William Shakespeare (1564 – 1616)
You pay a great deal too dear for what’s given freely. William Shakespeare (1564 – 1616)
I can live no longer by thinking. William Shakespeare (1564 – 1616)
I will chide no breather in the world but myself, against whom I know most faults. William Shakespeare (1564 – 1616)