William Shakespeare Quotes
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Abate the edge of traitors, gracious Lord, That would reduce these bloody days again And make poor England weep in streams of blood! Let them not live to taste this land's increase That would with treason wound this fair land's peace! Now civil wounds are stopped, peace lives again: That she may long live here, God say amen!
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Were it my cue to fight, I should have known it Without a prompter.
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Boundless intemperance In nature is a tyranny. It hath been Th' untimely emptying of the happy throne And fall of many kings.
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How oft the sight of means to do ill deeds makes ill deeds done!
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Poor and content is rich, and rich enough.
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Ay, but to die and go we know not where; To lie in cold obstrution and to rot; This sensible warm motion to become A kneaded clod; and the delighted spirit To bathe in fiery floods or to reside In thrilling regions of thick-ribbed ice; To be imprison'd in the viewless winds, And blown with restless violence round about The pendant world.
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Awake, dear heart, awake. Thou hast slept well. Awake.
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A heavy heart bears not a nimble tongue.
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Vengeance is in my heart, death in my hand,Blood and revenge are hammering in my head.
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To think but nobly of my grandmother: Good wombs have borne bad sons.
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Justice always whirls in equal measure.
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Jesu, Jesu, the mad days that I have spent! And to see how many of my old acquaintance are dead!
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Adversity's sweet milk, philosophy.
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Do you not know I am a woman? when I think, I must speak.
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Women are not In their best fortunes strong, but want will perjure the ne'er-touched vestal.
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Thou mak'st me merry: I am full of pleasure; let us be jocund
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You must not think That we are made of stuff so fat and dull That we can let our beard be shook with danger And think it pastime.
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She speaks poniards, and every word stabs: if her breath were as terrible as her terminations, there were no living near her; she would infect to the north star. I would not marry her, though she were endowed with all that Adam bad left him before he transgressed.
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Our very eyes Are sometimes, like our judgments, blind.
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The man that hath no music in himself, Nor is not moved with concord of sweet sounds, is fit for treasons, stratagems and spoils.
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Did he so often lodge in open field, In winter's cold and summer's parching heat, To conquer France, his true inheritance?
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Let me be boiled to death with melancholy.
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When I got enough confidence, the stage was gone. When I was sure of losing, I won. When I needed people the most, they left me. When I learnt to dry my tears, I found a shoulder to cry on. And when I mastered the art of hating, somebody started loving me.
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Honesty is not the best policy - merely the safest