William Shakespeare Quotes
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A man I am cross'd with adversity.
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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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Sorrow breaks seasons and reposing hours, Makes the night morning, and the noontide night.
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The curse of marriage That we can call these delicate creatures ours And not their appetites!
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Now I am past all comforts here, but prayer.
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Look to her, Moor, if thou has eyes to see. She has deceived her father, and may thee.
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To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow, Creeps in this petty pace from day to day, To the last syllable of recorded time; And all our yesterdays have lighted fools The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle! Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player, That struts and frets his hour upon the stage, And then is heard no more. It is a tale Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, Signifying nothing.
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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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The poet's eye, in a fine frenzy rolling, Doth glance from heaven to earth, From earth to heaven.
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The proverb is something musty.
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In right and service to their noble country.
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Courage mounteth with occasion.
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I had as lief have been myself alone.
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Good old grandsire ... we shall be joyful of thy company.
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His words are bonds, his oaths are oracles; his love sincere, his thoughts immaculate; his tears pure messengers sent from his heart; his heart as far from fraud, as heaven from earth
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All dark and comfortless.
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Though I be but prince of Wales, yet I am the king of courtesy.
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Happy thou art not; for what thou hast not, still thou strivest to get; and what thou hast, forgettest.
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When once our grace we have forgot, Nothing goes right.
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A hit, a very palpable hit.
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To move wild laughter in the throat of death? It cannot be; it is impossible: Mirth cannot move a soul in agony.
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Where I could not be honest, I never yet was valiant.
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Heaven is above all yet; there sits a judge, That no king can corrupt.
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Sweets with sweets war not, joy delights in joy.