William Shakespeare Quotes
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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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Some Cupid kills with arrows, some with traps.
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You are a lover. Borrow Cupid's wings and soar with them above a common bound.
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Who is it can read a woman?
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I am disgraced, impeached, and baffled here, Pierced to the soul with slander's venomed spear.
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O, that our fathers would applause our loves, To seal our happiness with hteir consents!
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Love is like a child, That longs for everything it can come by.
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I must have liberty Withal, as large a charter as the wind, To blow on whom I please, for so fools have.
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Slander, whose whisper over the world's diameter, as level as the cannon to its blank, transports its poisoned shot.
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There's daggers in men's smiles.
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The wound of peace is surety, Surety secure; but modest doubt is called The beacon of the wise, the tent that searches To th' bottom of the worst.
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He makes a July's day short as December.
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A heaven on earth I have won by wooing thee.
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Life's uncertain voyage.
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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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A scar nobly got is a good livery of honor.
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Mercutio: "If love be rough with you, be rough with love.
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If thou art rich, thou art poor; for, like an ass, whose back with ingots bows, thou bearest thy heavy riches but a journey, and death unloads thee.
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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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For the success, Although particular, shall give a scantling Of good or bad unto the general; And in such indexes, although small pricks To their subsequent volumes, there is seen The baby figure of the giant mass Of things to come at large.
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Dispute not with her: she is lunatic.
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Friends, Romans, countrymen, lend me your ears; I come to bury Caesar, not to praise him.
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Let me be boiled to death with melancholy.
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What though care killed a cat, thou hast mettle enough in thee to kill care.