William Shakespeare Quotes
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Daffodils, That come before the swallow dares, and take The winds of March with beauty.
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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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The weariest and most loathed worldly life, that age, ache, penury and imprisonment can lay on nature is a paradise, to what we fear of death.
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Love bears it out even to the edge of doom.
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I have touch'd the highest point of all my greatness, And from that full meridian of my glory I haste now to my setting.
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A sentence is but a cheveril glove to a good wit; How quickly the wrong side may be turned outward!
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A high hope for a low heaven: God grant us patience!
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And his unkindness may defeat my life, But never taint my love.
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Hamlet: Lady, shall I lie in your lap? Ophelia: No, my lord. Hamlet: DId you think I meant country matters? Ophelia: I think nothing, my lord. Hamlet: That's a fair thought to lie between maids' legs. Ophelia: What is, my lord? Hamlet: Nothing.
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The cunning livery of hell.
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The caterpillars of the commonwealth, Which I have sworn to weed and pluck away.
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O, how shall summer's honey breath hold out Against the wreckful siege of battering days, When rocks impregnable are not so stout, Nor gates of steel so strong, but Time decays?
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How much more doth beauty beauteous seem by that sweet ornament which truth doth give!
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Flower of this purple dye, Hit with Cupid's archery, Sink in apple of his eye.
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A peace is of the nature of a conquest; for then both parties nobly are subdued, and neither party loser.
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They met so near with their lips that their breaths embraced together.
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Too much of water hast thou, poor Ophelia, And therefore I forbid my tears.
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No place indeed should murder sanctuarize; Revenge should have no bounds.
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LEONATO Well, niece, I hope to see you one day fitted with a husband. BEATRICE Not till God make men of some other metal than earth. Would it not grieve a woman to be overmastered with a pierce of valiant dust? to make an account of her life to a clod of wayward marl? No, uncle, I'll none: Adam's sons are my brethren; and, truly, I hold it a sin to match in my kindred.
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A glooming peace this morning with it brings; The sun, for sorrow, will not show his head: Go hence, to have more talk of these sad things; Some shall be pardon'd, and some punished: For never was a story of more woe Than this of Juliet and her Romeo.
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Fools are as like husbands as pilchards are to herrings, the husband's the bigger.
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Oh, she doth teach the torches to burn bright!
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This goodly frame, the earth, seems to me a sterile promontory.
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I crave fit disposition for my wife; Due reference of place, and exhibition; With such accommodation, and besort, As levels with her breeding.