William Shakespeare Quotes
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Wisely, I say, I am a bachelor.
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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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Dispute not with her: she is lunatic.
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The happiest youth, viewing his progress through, What perils past, what crosses to ensue, Would shut the book, and sit him down and die.
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You speak like a green girl / unsifted in such perilous circumstances.
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He was a man, take him for all in all, I shall not look upon his like again.
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Then is it sin to rush into the secret house of death. Ere death dare come to us?
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I do profess to be no less than I seem; to serve him truly that will put me in trust: to love him that is honest; to converse with him that is wise, and says little; to fear judgment; to fight when I cannot choose; and to eat no fish.
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Tis time to fear when tyrants seem to kiss.
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We are time's subjects, and time bids be gone.
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Now get you to my lady's chamber, and tell her, let her paint an inch thick, to this favour she must come; make her laugh at that.
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Hope is a lover's staff; walk hence with that And manage it against despairing thoughts.
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On a day - alack the day! - Love, whose month is ever May, Spied a blossom passing fair Playing in the wanton air
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Thus did I keep my person fresh and new, My presence, like a robe pontifical, Ne'er seen but wondered at, and so my state, Seldom but sumptuous, showed like a feast.
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Sufferance is the badge of all our tribe.
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My hounds are bred out of the Spartan kind; So flew'd, so sanded; their heads are hung with ears that sweep away the morning dew.
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Every inordinate cup is unbless'd, and the ingredient is a devil.
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To be in love- where scorn is bought with groans, Coy looks with heart-sore sighs, one fading moment's mirth With twenty watchful, weary, tedious nights; If haply won, perhaps a hapless gain; If lost, why then a grievous labour won; However, but a folly bought with wit, Or else a wit by folly vanquished.
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O! she doth teach the torches to burn bright It seems she hangs upon the cheek of night Like a rich jewel in an Ethiop's ear; Beauty too rich for use, for earth too dear. - Romeo -
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Beauty is but a vain and doubtful good; a shining gloss that fadeth suddenly; a flower that dies when it begins to bud; a doubtful good, a gloss, a glass, a flower, lost, faded, broken, dead within an hour.
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There's small choice in rotten apples.
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True hope is swift, and flies with swallow's wings.
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Death is my son-in-law. Death is my heir. My daughter he hath wedded. I will die, And leave him all. Life, living, all is Death’s.
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I have set my life upon a cast, And I will stand the hazard of the die.