Date: 1603

"For nature crescent does not grow alone / In thews and bulk, but as his temple waxes / The inward service of the mind and soul / Grows wide withal."

— Shakespeare, William (1564-1616)

Date: 1603

"Then weigh what loss your honour may sustain / If with too credent ear you list his songs, / Or lose your heart, or your chaste treasure open / To his unmastered importunity."

— Shakespeare, William (1564-1616)

Date: 1603

"O wretched state, O bosom black as death, / O limèd soul that, struggling to be free, / Art more engaged!"

— Shakespeare, William (1564-1616)

Date: 1603

"And let me wring your heart; for so I shall / If it be made of penetrable stuff, / If damnèd custom have not brassed it so / That it is proof and bulwark against sense."

— Shakespeare, William (1564-1616)

Date: 1603

"And that his soul may be as damned and black / As hell whereto it goes."

— Shakespeare, William (1564-1616)

Date: 1603

"Thou turn'st mine eyes into my very soul, / And there I see such black and grainèd spots / As will not leave their tinct. "

— Shakespeare, William (1564-1616)

Date: 1603

"So think thou wilt no second husband wed; / But die thy thoughts when thy first lord is dead."

— Shakespeare, William (1564-1616)

Date: 1603

"Remember thee? / Ay, thou poor ghost, while memory holds a seat / In this distracted globe."

— Shakespeare, William (1564-1616)