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O, teach me how you look, and with what art You sway the motion of Demetrius' heart."-Helena
Sep 10, 2025
Lovers and madmen have such seething brains Such shaping fantasies, that apprehend More than cool reason ever comprehends.
To you your father should be as a god.
Up and down, up and down I will lead them up and down I am feared in field in town Goblin, lead them up and down
Thus die I, thus, thus, thus. Now am I dead, Now am I fled; My soul is in the sky: Tongue, lose thy light; Moon take thy flight. Now die, die, die, die, die.
O, when she's angry, she is keen and shrewd! She was a vixen when she went to school; And though she be but little, she is fierce.
Though she be but little, she is fierce!
Never anything can be amiss, when simpleness and duty tender it.
Such tricks hath strong imagination, That, if it would but apprehend some joy, It comprehends some bringer of that joy; Or in the night, imagining some fear, How easy is a bush supposed a bear!
I know a bank where the wild thyme blows, Where oxlips and the nodding violet grows, Quite over-canopied with luscious woodbine, With sweet musk-roses and with eglantine.
The eye of man hath not heard, the ear of man hath not seen, man's hand is not able to taste, his tongue to conceive, nor his heart to report, what my dream was.
Ill met by moonlight, proud Titania
Lord, what fools these mortals be!
One sees more devils than vast hell can hold
If we shadows have offended, Think but this, and all is mended, That you have but slumber'd here While these visions did appear.
I am that merry wanderer of the night.
Things base and vile, holding no quantity, love can transpose to form and dignity
Cupid is a knavish lad, Thus to make poor females mad.
So quick bright things come to confusion.
And therefore is love said to be a child, Because in choice he is so oft beguil'd
The lunatic, the lover, and the poet, are of imagination all compact.
I sat upon a promontory, And heard a mermaid, on a dolphin's back, Uttering such dulcet and harmonious breath, That the rude sea grew civil at her song; And certain stars shot madly from their spheres, To hear the sea-maid's music.
And yet,to say the truth, reason and love keep little company together nowadays.
A lion among ladies is a most dreadful thing.
I have had a most rare vision. I have had a dream, past the wit of man to say what dream it was.
Yet mark'd I where the bolt of Cupid fell: It fell upon a little western flower, Before milk-white, now purple with love's wound, And maidens call it love-in-idleness.
I know a place where the wild thyme blows, where oxlips and the nodding violet grows.
Things base and vile, holding no quantity, Love can transpose to form and dignity. Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind, And therefore is winged Cupid painted blind. Nor hath Love's mind of any judgment taste; Wings and no eyes figure unheedy haste.
But earthlier happy is the rose distill'd Than that which withering on the virgin thorn Grows, lives, and dies in single blessedness.
So we grew together like to a double cherry, seeming parted, but yet an union in partition, two lovely berries molded on one stem.
The moon, like to a silver bow new bent in heaven.
Four days will quickly steep themselves in nights; Four nights will quickly dream away the time; And then the moon, like to a silver bow new bent in heaven, shall behold the night of our solemnities.
In the night, imagining some fear, How easy is a bush supposed a bear!
Are you sure/That we are awake? It seems to me/That yet we sleep, we dream
Quote: What angel wakes me from my flowery bed?
Ay me! for aught that ever I could read, could ever hear by tale or history, the course of true love never did run smooth.
So, good night unto you all. Give me your hands, if we be friends, and Robin shall restore amends.
If we shadows have offended, Think but this, and all is mended, That you have but slumbered here While these visions did appear. And this weak and idle theme, No more yielding but a dream, Gentles, do not reprehend: If you pardon, we will mend: And, as I am an honest Puck, If we have unearned luck Now to 'scape the serpent's tongue, We will make amends ere long; Else the Puck a liar call; So, good night unto you all. Give me your hands, if we be friends, And Robin shall restore amends.
The poet's eye, in a fine frenzy rolling, Doth glance from heaven to earth, From earth to heaven.
The poet's eye, in a fine frenzy rolling, doth glance from heaven to Earth, from Earth to heaven; and as imagination bodies forth the forms of things unknown, the poet's pen turns them to shape, and gives to airy nothing a local habitation and a name; such tricks hath strong imagination.
The course of true love never did run smooth.
Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind, And therefore is winged Cupid painted blind.
All's well that ends well.
All is well that ends well
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