William Shakespeare

What, have I 'scaped love-letters in the holiday-time of my beauty, and am I now a subject for your mouth?

I had rather hear a brazen canstick turn'd, or a dry wheel grate on the axle-tree.

You are a cur.

I am a very foolish fond old man.

Away, you dog! you are a coward and a villain.

I see you are a cunning man, but what of that?

A man may see how this world goes with no eyes.

Villain, I have done thy mother.

Men at some time are masters of their fates: The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars, but in ourselves, that we are underlings.

Love all, trust a few, do wrong to none.

Frailty, thy name is woman!

When sorrows come, they come not single spies, but in battalions.

I wasted time, and now doth time waste me.

The worst is not, so long as we can say, 'This is the worst.'

The devil take order! I'll to the throng: Let life be short, else shame will be too long.

Men's vows are women's traitors.

The world is grown so bad that wrens make prey where eagles dare not perch.

The love of heaven makes one heavenly.