William Shakespeare Quotes
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God mark thee to His grace! Thou was the prettiest babe that e'er I nursed. And might I live to see thee married once, I have my wish.
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But that the dread of something after death, The undiscover'd country from whose bourn No traveller returns, puzzles the will And makes us rather bear those ills we have Than fly to others that we know not of?
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Flower of this purple dye, Hit with Cupid's archery, Sink in apple of his eye.
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No stony bulwark can resist the love, and love dares what anyone can love.
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Unquiet meals make ill digestions.
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I would challenge you to a battle of wits, but I see you are unarmed!
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Honesty is the best policy. If I lose mine honor, I lose myself.
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At this hour Lie at my mercy all mine enemies.
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I am wealthy in my friends.
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With mirth and laughter let old wrinkles come.
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How can tyrants safely govern home, Unless abroad they purchase great alliance.
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O, full of scorpions is my mind!
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After your death you were better have a bad epitaph than their ill report while you live.
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Time shall unfold what plaited cunning hides: Who cover faults, at last shame them derides.
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The means that heaven yields must be embraced, and not neglected; else, if heaven would, and we will not heaven's offer, we refuse the proffered means of succor and redress.
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Come, gentlemen, I hope we shall drink down all unkindness.
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But yet I'll make assurance double sure, and take a bond of fate: thou shalt not live.
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Reflection is the business of man; a sense of his state is his first duty: but who remembereth himself in joy? Is it not in mercy then that sorrow is allotted unto us?
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My love is strengthen'd, though more weak in seeming; I love not less, though less the show appear: That love is merchandised whose rich esteeming The owner's tongue doth publish every where.
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If you shall marry, You give away this hand, and this is mine; You give away heaven's vows, and those are mine; You give away myself, which is known mine; For I by vow am so embodied yours That she which marries you must marry me-- Either both or none.
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O, I do not like that paying back, 'tis a double labor.
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For naught so vile that on the earth doth live But to the earth some special good doth give.
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There's small choice in rotten apples.
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Wherefore was I to this keen mockery born? When at your hands did I deserve this scorn? Is't not enough, is't not enough, young man, That I did never, no, nor never can, Deserve a sweet look from Demetrius' eye, But you must flout my insufficiency?