William Shakespeare Quotes
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There's no better sign of a brave mind than a hard hand.
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Still it cried ‘Sleep no more!’ to all the house: ‘Glamis hath murder’d sleep, and therefore Cawdor shall sleep no more,—Macbeth shall sleep no more!
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How now, wit! Whither wander you?
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I am not yet of Percy's mind, the Hotspur of the North; he that kills me some six or seven dozen of Scots as a breakfast, washes his hands, and says to his wife, 'Fie upon this quiet life! I want work.
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From you have I been absent in the spring, When proud pied April, dressed in all his trim, Hath put a spirit of youth in every thing.
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I hold the world but as the world, Gratiano!
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These blessed candles of the night.
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Lay on, McDuff, and be damned he who first cries, 'Hold, enough!
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Love comforteth like sunshine after rain, But Lust's effect is tempest after sun; Love's gentle spring doth always fresh remain, Lust's winter comes ere summer half be done; Love surfeits not, Lust like a glutton dies; Love is all truth, Lust full of forged lies.
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That if you be honest and fair, your honesty should admit no discourse to your beauty.
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I have been long a sleeper; but I trust My absence doth neglect no great design Which by my presence might have been concluded.
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My age is as a lusty winter, frosty but kindly.
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so full of shapes is fancy
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Love is too young to know what conscience is.
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'Tis thought the king is dead; we will not stay. The bay trees in our country are all wither'd.
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See what a ready tongue suspicion hath!
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That god forbid, that made me first your slave, I should in thought control your times of pleasure, Or at your hand th' account of hours to crave, Being your vassal bound to stay your leisure.
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What we determine we often break. Purpose is but the slave to memory.
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Stars, hide your fires; Let not light see my black and deep desires.
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All the world's a stage.
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Is it possible he should know what he is, and be that he is?
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O call not me to justify the wrong, That thy unkindness lays upon my heart, Wound me not with thine eye but with thy tongue, Use power with power, and slay me not by art.
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Being of no power to make his wishes good: His promises fly so beyond his state That what he speaks is all in debt; he owes For every word.
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If we shadows have offended, Think but this, and all is mended, That you have but slumbered here While these visions did appear. And this weak and idle theme, No more yielding but a dream, Gentles, do not reprehend: If you pardon, we will mend: And, as I am an honest Puck, If we have unearned luck Now to 'scape the serpent's tongue, We will make amends ere long; Else the Puck a liar call; So, good night unto you all. Give me your hands, if we be friends, And Robin shall restore amends.