William Shakespeare Quotes

The young moon has fed Her exhausted horn With the sunset's fire.

How did it get so late so soon?

The moon is setand the Pleiades; Middle ofthe night, time passes by,I lie alone.

Sometimes, they say, the moon is so busy with the new souls of the world that it disappears from the sky. That is why we have moonless nights. But in the end, the moon always returns, as do we all.

Time moves in it special way in the middle of the night.

The moon, the moon, so silver and cold, Her fickle temper has oft been told, Now shade--now bright and sunny-- But of all the lunar things that change, The one that shows most fickle and strange, And takes the most eccentric range, Is the moon--so called--of honey!

During the days in detention, I thought most about the moon.

Blot out the moon, Pull down the stars. Love in the dark, for we're for the dark So soon, so soon.

They who meet on an April night are forever lost in love, if there's moonlight all about and there's no moon above.

When the moon is ninety degrees away from the sun it sees but half the earth illuminated (the western half). For the other (the eastern half) is enveloped in night. Hence the moon itself is illuminated less brightly from the earth, and as a result its secondary light appears fainter to us.

Sometime is that appointment, the final one to meet. Let's color all with love, for Time is naught but fleet.

Does it matter how long they were together that night? To lovers, an hour can last a century. But even for lovers, every hour ends.

Six years-six little years-six drops of time.

This is days and days and months and years and all the minutes in between, just you me.

the year she had run fleetly through the dewy grass under the moon- the night of wine, when dreams condensed out of thin air like the nightmilk of fantasy.

Oh, how short are the days! How soon the night overtakes us!

The summer moon hung full in the sky. For the time being it was the great fact of the world.

It was like noticing the sun. You couldn't help but see it, to turn to face the heat of it, to bask in the glory of it. But often when the sun is high in the sky, the moon is up there, too. A dim memory of what she will be in the night, but there, nonetheless, dim and misty, hard and white. At night, there is only the moon, the sun is nowhere to be seen. There are no distractions when the moon rules the sky.

There was just one moon. That familiar, yellow, solitary moon. The same moon that silently floated over fields of pampas grass, the moon that rose--a gleaming, round saucer--over the calm surface of lakes, that tranquilly beamed down on the rooftops of fast-asleep houses. The same moon that brought the high tide to shore, that softly shone on the fur of animals and enveloped and protected travelers at night. The moon that, as a crescent, shaved slivers from the soul--or, as a new moon, silently bathed the earth in its own loneliness. THAT moon.

Of all sound of all bells... most solemn and touching is the peal which rings out the Old Year.

listen to me as one listens to the rain, the years go by, the moments return, do you hear the footsteps in the next room? not here, not there: you hear them in another time that is now, listen to the footsteps of time, inventor of places with no weight, nowhere, listen to the rain running over the terrace, the night is now more night in the grove, lightning has nestled among the leaves, a restless garden adrift-go in, your shadow covers this page.