I can’t help but ask, “Do you know where you are?”She turns to me with a foreboding glare. “Do you?

Foul words is but foul wind, and foul wind is but foul breath, and foul breath is noisome; therefore I will depart unkissed.

To die, to sleep - To sleep, perchance to dream - ay, there's the rub,For in this sleep of death what dreams may come...

The sweetest honey is loathsome in its own deliciousness. And in the taste destroys the appetite. Therefore, love moderately.

I have ridden out all the storms,” said Shakespeare, “even the ones I wrote myself. Here, look, it begins…

Alack, there lies more peril in thine eyeThan twenty of their swords: look thou but sweet,And I am proof against their enmity.

Nobody with any real sense of humor *can* write a love story. . . . Shakespeare is the exception that proves the rule. (90-91)

I no longer believe that William Shakespeare the actor from Stratford was the author of the works that have been ascribed to him.

By the time you have a platform for saying what you want, you’ve already become part of the system. It’s how it works.

The ultimate paradox, of course, is that even though we're all going to die, we've all got to live in the meantime…

It is gaol that finally reveals to me the beauty of Shakespeare, the spirit in his words, the jaw-dropping audacity of his language.

A comedy isn’t about being funny...a comedy is about characters who dare to know that they may choose a happy ending after all.

Love and kindness are never wasted. They always make a difference. They bless the one who receives them, and they bless you, the giver.

It were for me To throw my sceptre at the injurious gods; To tell them that this world did equal theirs Till they had stolen our jewel.

All causes shall give way: I am in bloodStepp’d in so far that, should I wade no more,Returning were as tedious as go o’er.