Cymbeline: Tragédie

“Fear no more the heat o' the sun,Nor the furious winter's rages;Thou thy worldly task hast done,Home art gone, and ta'en thy wages;Golden lads and girls all must,As chimney-sweepers, come to dust.Fear no more the frown o' the great;Thou art past the tyrant's stroke:Care no more to clothe and eat;To thee the reed is as the oak:The sceptre, learning, physic, mustAll follow this, and come to dust.Fear no more the lightning-flash,Nor the all-dreaded thunder-stone;Fear not slander, censure rash;Thou hast finished joy and moan;All lovers young, all lovers mustConsign to thee, and come to dust. No exorciser harm thee! Nor no witchcraft charm thee! Ghost unlaid forbear thee! Nothing ill come near thee! Quiet consummation have; And renownéd be thy grave!””

— William Shakespeare

“Hang there like a fruit, my soul, Till the tree die!””

— William Shakespeare

“Golden lads and girls all must as chimney sweepers come to dust.””

— William Shakespeare

“Kneel not to me.The pow'r that I have on you is to spare you;The malice towards you to forgive you. Live,And deal with others better.””

— William Shakespeare

“I am glad I was up so late, for that's the reason I was up so early.””

— William Shakespeare

“The pow'r I have on you is to spare you / The malice towards you, to forgive you. Posthumus””

— William Shakespeare

“Fortune brings in some boats that are not steered.””

— William Shakespeare

“our cageWe make a quire, as doth the prison'd bird,And sing our bondage freely.””

— William Shakespeare

“Pardon's the word to all.””

— William Shakespeare