William Shakespeare Quotes
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Time is like a fashionable host That slightly shakes his parting guest by the hand, And with his arm outstretch'd, as he would fly, Grasps in the comer.
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Were I the Moor I would not be Iago. In following him I follow but myself; Heaven is my judge, not I for love and duty, But seeming so for my peculiar end. For when my outward action doth demonstrate The native act and figure of my heart In compliment extern, ’tis not long after But I will wear my heart upon my sleeve For daws to peck at. I am not what I am
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Time ... thou ceaseless lackey to eternity.
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The most peaceable way for you, if you do take a thief, is, to let him show himself what he is and steal out of your company.
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The barge she sat in, like a burnish'd throne, Burnt on the water.
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The patient must minister to himself
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The tartness of his face sours ripe grapes.
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There's nothing ill can dwell in such a temple. If the ill spirit have so fair a house, Good things will strive to dwell with't
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Well, I will find you twenty lascivious turtles ere one chaste man.
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He wears the rose Of youth upon him.
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But, indeed, words are very rascals, since bonds [vows] disgraced them." Viola: "Thy reason, man?" Feste: "Troth [Truthfully], sir, I can yield you none without words, and words are grown so false, I am loathe to prove reason with them.
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Yet but three come one more. Two of both kinds make up four. Ere she comes curst and sad. Cupid is a knavish lad. Thus to make poor females mad.
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Scorn, at first, makes after – love the more.
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And flights of angels sing thee to thy rest!
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Thou whoreson zed! thou unnecessary letter!
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Let's go hand in hand, not one before another.
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God, the best maker of all marriages, Combine your hearts into one.
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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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As merry as the day is long.
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Nimble thought can jump both sea and land.
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If there be devils, would I were a devil, To live and burn in everlasting fire, So I might have your company in hell, But to torment you with my bitter tongue!
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Receive what cheer you may. The night is long that never finds the day.
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Violent fires soon burn out themselves, small showers last long, but sudden storms are short; he tires betimes that spurs too fast.
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The ides of March are come. Soothsayer: Ay, Caesar; but not gone.