William Shakespeare Quotes
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Awake, dear heart, awake. Thou hast slept well. Awake.
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How oft the sight of means to do ill deeds makes ill deeds done!
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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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The jury passing on the prisoner's life may in the sworn twelve have a thief or two guiltier than him they try.
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Poor and content is rich, and rich enough.
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Now would I give a thousand furlongs of sea for an acre of barren ground.
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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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Taste your legs, sire: put them into motion.
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Fare thee well, king: sith thus thou wilt appear, Freedom lives hence, and banishment is here.
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Keep up your bright swords, for the dew will rust them.
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To think but nobly of my grandmother: Good wombs have borne bad sons.
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Now the melancholy God protect thee, and the tailor make thy garments of changeable taffeta, for thy mind is opal.
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Adversity's sweet milk, philosophy.
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Let me be boiled to death with melancholy.
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Were it my cue to fight, I should have known it Without a prompter.
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O that my tongue were in the thunder's mouth! Then with passion would I shake the world.
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My only love sprung from my only hate! Too early seen unknown, and known too late! Prodigious birth of love it is to me, That I must love a loathed enemy.
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You have witchcraft in your lips, there is more eloquence in a sugar touch of them than in the tongues of the French council; and they should sooner persuade Harry of England than a general petition of monarchs.
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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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I would challenge you to a battle of wits, but I see you are unarmed!
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Is it not strange, that sheep's guts should hale souls out of men's bodies!
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Blow, blow, thou winter wind Thou art not so unkind, As man's ingratitude.
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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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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.