William Shakespeare

In nature’s infinite book of secrecy, a little I can read.

William Shakespeare

In peace there’s nothing so becomes a man as modest stillness and humility.

William Shakespeare

In persons grafted in a serious trust, negligence is a crime.

William Shakespeare

In thy face I see the map of honor, truth, and loyalty.

William Shakespeare

In time the savage bull doth bear the yoke.

William Shakespeare

In time we hate that which we often fear.

William Shakespeare

Infirm of purpose! Give me the daggers. The sleeping and the dead Are but as pictures; ’tis the eye of childhood That fears a painted devil.

William Shakespeare

Ingratitude is monstrous.

William Shakespeare

Ingratitude, thou marble-hearted fiend, more hideous, when thou show’st thee in a child, than the sea-monster.

William Shakespeare

Is it possible he should know what he is, and be that he is?

William Shakespeare