William Shakespeare Quotes
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I will chide no breather in the world but myself, against whom I know most faults.
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The big round tears Cours'd one another down his innocent nose, In piteous chase.
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Virtue's office never breaks men's troth.
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My father compounded with my mother under the Dragon's tail, and my nativity was under Ursa Major, so that it follows, I am roughand lecherous. Tut, I should have been that I am, had the maidenliest star in the firmament twinkled on my bastardizing.
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A hit, a very palpable hit.
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Know more than other. Work more than other. Expect less than other
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Weary with toil, I haste me to my bed The dear repose for limbs with travel tired; But then begins a journey in my head To work my mind, when body's work's expir'd: For then my thoughts-from far where I abide- Intend a zealous pilgrimage to thee, And keep my drooping eyelids open wide, Looking on darkness which the blind do see: Save that my soul's imaginary sight Presents thy shadow to my sightless view, Which, like a jewel hung in ghastly night, Makes black night beauteous and her old face new. Lo! thus, by day my limbs, by night my mind, For thee, and for myself no quiet find.
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No deeper wrinkles yet? Hath sorrow struck So many blows upon this face of mine And made no deeper wounds?
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Who is it that can tell me who I am?
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Time travels in divers paces with divers persons.
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While thou livest keep a good tongue in thy head.
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O war! thou son of Hell!
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Fair Katherine, and most fair, Will you vouchsafe to teach a soldier terms Such as will enter at a lady's ear, And plead his love-suit to her gentle heart?
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Never shame to hear what you have nobly done
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Doubt thou the stars are fire; Doubt that the sun doth move; Doubt truth to be a liar; But never doubt I love.
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See where she comes apparelled like the spring.
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O wonderful, wonderful, and most wonderful wonderful! And yet again wonderful, and after that, out of all hooping.
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Religious canons, civil laws, are cruel; then what should war be?
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From this day to the ending of the world, But we in it shall be remembered- We few, we happy few, we band of brothers; For he to-day that sheds his blood with me Shall be my brother; be he ne’er so vile, This day shall gentle his condition; And gentlemen in England now-a-bed Shall think themselves accurs’d they were not here, And hold their manhoods cheap whiles any speaks That fought with us upon Saint Crispin’s day.
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Ne'er ask me what raiment I'll wear, for I have no more doublets than backs, no more stockings than legs, nor no more shoes than feet--nay, sometime more feet than shoes, or such shoes as my toes look through the overleather.
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By Heaven, I love thee better than myself.
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Oh, I have passed a miserable night, so full of ugly sights, of ghastly dreams!
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I'll make death love me; for I will contend Even with his pestilent scythe.
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Misery acquaints a man with strange bedfellows.