William Shakespeare Quotes
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For so work the honey bees, creatures that by a rule in nature teach the act of order to a peopled kingdom.
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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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Stars, hide your fires; Let not light see my black and deep desires.
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He reads much; He is a great observer and he looks Quite through the deeds of men: he loves no plays, As thou dost, Antony; he hears no music; Seldom he smiles, and smiles in such a sort As if he mock'd himself and scorn'd his spirit That could be moved to smile at any thing. Such men as he be never at heart's ease Whiles they behold a greater than themselves, And therefore are they very dangerous.
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Men from children nothing differ.
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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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The urging of that word, judgment, hath bred a kind of remorse in me.
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O war! thou son of Hell!
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Madness in great ones must not unwatched go.
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We make ourselves fools to disport ourselves And spend our flatteries to drink those men Upon whose age we void it up again With poisonous spite and envy.
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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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My love is deep; the more I give to thee, the more I have, both are infinite.
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Even through the hollow eyes of death I spy life peering.
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See where she comes apparelled like the spring.
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Farewell, good Salisbury, and good luck go with thee!
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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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Set we forward; let A Roman and a British ensign wave Friendly together. So through Lud's town march, And in the temple of the great Jupiter Our peace we'll ratify, seal it with feasts. Set on there! Never was a war did cease, Ere bloody hands were washed, with such a peace.
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My age is as a lusty winter, frosty but kindly.
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Lay on, McDuff, and be damned he who first cries, 'Hold, enough!
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Now I am past all comforts here, but prayer.
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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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Misery acquaints a man with strange bedfellows.
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I'll make death love me; for I will contend Even with his pestilent scythe.
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The peace of heaven is theirs that lift their swords, in such a just and charitable war.