A Quote by William Shakespeare
Of one that lov'd not wisely but too well.
Related Quotes
At a dinner party one should eat wisely but not too well, and talk well but not too wisely.
A man filled with meat turns his back on the dry bones of political doctrine. Fanatical devotion to the ruling party comes more readily from the materially deprived At a dinner party one should eat wisely but not too well, and talk well but not too wisely.
What thou lovest well remains, the rest is dross What thou lov’st well shall not be reft from thee What thou lov’st well is thy true heritage
What thou lovest well remains, the rest is dross What thou lov'st well shall not be reft from thee What thou lov'st well is thy true heritage Whose world, or mine or theirs or is it of none? First came the seen, then thus the palpable Elysium, though it were in the halls of hell. What thou lovest well is thy true heritage.
Where both deliberate, the love is slight: Who ever lov'd, that lov'd not at first sight?
Dead shepherd, now I find thy saw of might. Whoever lov'd that lov'd not at first sight.
She lov'd me for the dangers I had pass'd, And I lov'd her that she did pity them
I think the main reason my marriages failed is that I always loved too well but never wisely.
Everyone always dies for his country. If you have lived in it, well and wisely and actively, you die for it too.
What thou lov'st well is thy true heritage.
So perhaps the real secret to style is filling yourself to the absolute brim with engagement. Loving not wisely, but too well and all that.
Why is it so difficult to love wisely, so easy to love too well?
For praise too dearly lov'd, or warmly sought,
Enfeebles all internal strength of thought;
And the weak soul within itself unblest,
Leans for all pleasure on another's breast.
Too much I've seen, and felt, and lov'd in life, Living I come to seek Lethaean calm; Let me, fair scenes! forget all worldly strife, Oblivion solely is my bosom's balm.
Learn to live well, or fairly make your will;
You've play'd, and lov'd, and ate, and drank your fill:
Walk sober off, before a sprightlier age
Comes titt'ring on, and shoves you from the stage.
I pray you, in your letters, When you shall these unlucky deeds relate, Speak of me as I am; nothing extenuate, Nor set down aught in malice. Then must you speak Of one that loved not wisely but too well; Of one not easily jealous, but being wrought, Perplexed in the extreme. . .
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