William Shakespeare Quotes
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We all are men, in our own natures frail, and capable of our flesh; few are angels.
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The thorny point Of bare distress hath ta'en from me the show Of smooth civility; yet am I inland bred And know some nurture.
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It was a lover and his lass, With a hey, and a ho, and a hey nonino, That o'er the green corn-field did pass, In the spring time, the only pretty ring time, When birds do sing, hey ding a ding, ding; Sweet lovers love the spring.
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Your worm is your only emperor for diet; we fat all creatures else to fat us, and we fat ourselves for maggots.
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Before the curing of a strong disease, Even in the instant of repair and health, The fit is strongest. Evils that take leave, On their departure most of all show evil.
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I have seen better faces in my time Than stands on any shoulder that I see Before me at this instant.
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Thieves for their robbery have authority When judges steal themselves.
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Allow not nature more than nature needs.
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Rude am I in my speech, And little blessed with the soft phrase of peace.
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What is honour? a word. What is in that word honour? what is that honour? air. A trim reckoning! Who hath it? he that died o' Wednesday. Doth he feel it? no. Doth he hear it? no.
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Crabbed age and youth cannot live together; Youth is full of pleasure, age is full of care; Youth like summer morn, age like winter weather; Youth like summer brave, age like winter bare. Youth is full sport, age's breath is short; Youth is nimble, age is lame; Youth is hot and bold, age is weak and cold; Youth is wild, age is tame. Age, I do abhor thee; youth, I do adore thee.
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Love bears it out even to the edge of doom.
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The stroke of death is as a lover's pinch, which hurts and is desired.
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A scar nobly got is a good livery of honor.
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ROSENCRANTZ My lord, you must tell us where the body is, and go with us to the king. HAMLET The body is with the king, but the king is not with the body. The king is a thing - GUILDENSTERN A thing my lord? HAMLET Of nothing. Bring me to him. Hide fox, and all after!
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But I, that am not shaped for sportive tricks, Nor made to court an amorous looking-glass; I, that am rudely stamped, and want love's majesty To strut before a wanton ambling nymph.
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God defend me from that Welsh fairy, Lest he transform me to a piece of cheese!
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Sweet love! Sweet lines! Sweet life! Here is her hand, the agent of her heart; Here is her oath for love, her honour's pawn.
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O, let my books be then the eloquence And dumb presagers of my speaking breast, Who plead for love, and look for recompense, More than that tongue that more hath more expressed.
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He that is strucken blind can not forget the precious treasure of his eyesight lost.
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Love is blind and lovers cannot see the pretty follies that themselves commit.
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How easy it is for the proper-false in woman's waxen hearts to set their forms!
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A fool's bolt is soon shot.
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O, what damned minutes tells he o'er Who dotes, yet doubts, suspects, yet fondly loves!