William Shakespeare Quotes
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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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Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon, Who is already sick and pale with grief That thou, her maid, art far more fair than she. . . .
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So full of artless jealousy is guilt, It spills itself in fearing to be spilt.
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Some kinds of baseness are nobly undergone.
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Thou mak'st me merry: I am full of pleasure; let us be jocund
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In nature's infinite book of secrecy A little I can read.
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What a fool honesty is.
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There's never a villain dwelling in all Denmark But he's an arrant knave.
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Now entertain conjecture of a time When creeping murmur and the poring dark Fills the wide vessel of the universe.
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Base men being in love have then a nobility in their natures more than is native to them.
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This act is an ancient tale new told; And, in the last repeating, troublesome, Being urged at a time unseasonable.
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Mercutio: "If love be rough with you, be rough with love.
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And gentlemen in England now-a-bed Shall think themselves accurs'd they were not here, And hold their manhoods cheap whiles any speaks That fought with us upon Saint Crispin's day.
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If I for my opinion bleed, opinion shall be surgeon to my hurt, and keep me on the side where still I am.
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it is my lady! *sighs* o, it is my love! o, that she knew she were! she speaks, yet she sais nothing. what of that? her eye discourses; i will answer it. i am too bold, 'tis not to me she speaks; two of the fairest stars in all the heaven, having some business, do entreat her eyes to twinkle in their spheres till they return.
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Death makes no conquest of this conqueror: For now he lives in fame, though not in life.
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O Helena, goddess, nymph, perfect, divine! To what, my love, shall I compare thine eyne? Crystal is muddy. O, how ripe in show Thy lips, those kissing cherries, tempting grow!
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Et tu Brute! (You too, Brutus!)
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Make use of time, let not advantage slip; Beauty within itself should not be wasted: Fair flowers that are not gather'd in their prime Rot and consume themselves in little time.
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Tis the times' plague, when madmen lead the blind.
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You speak like a green girl / unsifted in such perilous circumstances.
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For what is wedlock forced but a hell, An age of discord and continual strife? Whereas the contrary bringeth bliss, And is a pattern of celestial peace.
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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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Sometimes when we are labeled, when we are branded our brand becomes our calling.