William Shakespeare Quotes
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Not that I loved Caesar less, but that I loved Rome more.
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Her virtues, graced with external gifts, Do breed love's settled passions in my heart; And like as rigour of tempestuous gusts Provokes the mightiest hulk against the tide, So am I driven by breath of her renown Either to suffer shipwreck or arrive Where I may have fruition of her love.
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Hope is a lover's staff; walk hence with that And manage it against despairing thoughts.
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Love is blind and lovers cannot see the pretty follies that themselves commit.
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And he goes through life, his mouth open, and his mind closed.
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Let the galled jade wince; our withers are unwrung.
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Love bears it out even to the edge of doom.
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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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How easy it is for the proper-false in woman's waxen hearts to set their forms!
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But 'tis common proof, that lowliness is young ambition's ladder, whereto the climber-upward turns his face; but when he once attains the upmost round, he then turns his back, looks in the clouds, scorning the vase defrees by which he did ascend.
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The expedition of my violent love outrun the pauser, reason.
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God defend me from that Welsh fairy, Lest he transform me to a piece of cheese!
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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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Women being the weaker vessels, are ever thrust to the walls.
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Suspicion always haunts the guilty mind.
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He that commends me to mine own content Commends me to the thing I cannot get. I to the world am like a drop of water That in the ocean seeks another drop, Who, falling there to find his fellow forth, Unseen, inquisitive, confounds himself: So I, to find a mother and a brother, In quest of them, unhappy, lose myself.
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My father's wit, and my mother's tongue, assist me!
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Do not plunge thyself too far in anger.
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The gaudy, blabbing, and remorseful day Is crept into the bosom of the sea.
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Faster than spring-time showers comes thought on thought.
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A very honest woman but something given to lie
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And why not death rather than living torment? To die is to be banish'd from myself; And Silvia is myself: banish'd from her Is self from self: a deadly banishment!
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I will kill thee a hundred and fifty ways.
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Allow not nature more than nature needs.