William Shakespeare Quotes
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Blow, blow, thou winter wind Thou art not so unkind, As man's ingratitude.
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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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The Thane of Cawdor lives, A prosperous gentleman; and to be King Stands not within the prospect of belief, No more than to be Cawdor.
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Thou mak'st me merry: I am full of pleasure; let us be jocund
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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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There's no art to find the mind's construction in the face.
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This is a way to kill a wife with kindness.
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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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I am as true as truth's simplicity, And simpler than the infancy of truth.
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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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'Sblood, you starveling, you elf-skin, you dried neat's tongue, you bull's pizzle, you stock-fish! O for breath to utter what is like thee! you tailor's-yard, you sheath, you bowcase; you vile standing-tuck!
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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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To saucy doubts and fears.
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But O, how bitter a thing it is to look into happiness through another man's eyes.
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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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What a fool honesty is.
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There's daggers in men's smiles.
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Mirth cannot move a soul in agony.
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Last scene of all that ends this strange, eventful history, is second childishness and mere oblivion. I am sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything.
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I do not set my life at a pin's fee, And for my soul, what can it do to that, Being a thing immortal as itself?
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Et tu Brute! (You too, Brutus!)
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This bud of love, by summer's ripening breath, May prove a beauteous flower when next we meet.
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Honesty is not the best policy - merely the safest
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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.