William Shakespeare Quotes
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They are but beggars that can count their worth.
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Honesty is the best policy. If I lose mine honor, I lose myself.
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It is silliness to live when to live is torment, and then have we a prescription to die when death is our physician.
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Do not plunge thyself too far in anger.
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Alas, sir, how fell you besides your five wits?" Malvolio: "Fool, there was never a man so notoriously abused. I am as well in my wits, fool, as thou art." Feste: "But as well? Then you are mad indeed, if you be no better in you wits than a fool.
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O, the difference of man and man! To thee a woman's services are due.
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Not that I loved Caesar less, but that I loved Rome more.
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Let fame, that all hunt after in their lives, Live regist'red upon our brazen tombs And then grace us in the disgrace of death; When, spite of cormorant devouring Time, Th' endeavor of this present breath may buy That honor which shall bate his scythe's keen edge And make us heirs of all eternity.
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A fool's bolt is soon shot.
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The stroke of death is as a lover's pinch, which hurts and is desired.
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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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Conversation should be pleasant without scurrility, witty without affectation, free without indecency, learned without conceitedness, novel without falsehood.
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This wimpled, whining, purblind, wayward boy, this Senior Junior, giant dwarf...Cupid.
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It was always yet the trick of our English nation, if they have a good thing, to make it too common.
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My heart is turned to stone; I strike it, and it hurts my hand.
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And fearless minds climb soonest unto crowns.
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In peace there's nothing so becomes a man as modest stillness and humility.
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Love's not love When it is mingled with regards that stand Aloof from th' entire point.
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A book? O, rare one, Be not, as is our fangled world, a garment Nobler than that it covers.
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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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Thieves for their robbery have authority When judges steal themselves.
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Why, friends, you go to do you know not what: Wherein hath Caesar thus deserved your loves? Alas, you know not: I must tell you then: You have forgot the will I told you of. . . . . Here is the will, and under Caesar's seal. To every Roman citizen he gives, To every several man, seventy-five drachmas. . . . . Moreover, he hath left you all his walks, His private arbours and new-planted orchards, On this side Tiber; he hath left them you, And to your heirs for ever, common pleasures, To walk abroad, and recreate yourselves. Here was a Caesar! when comes such another?
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More matter with less art.
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For in the fatness of these pursy times Virtue itself of vice must pardon beg.