William Shakespeare Quotes
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'Tis not enough to help the feeble up, but to support them after.
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An overflow of good converts to bad.
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An envious fever of pale and bloodless emulation.
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O, pardon me, thou bleeding piece of earth, / That I am meek and gentle with these butchers!
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Melancholy is the nurse of frenzy.
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The rain, it raineth every day.
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He is not worthy of the honey-comb, that shuns the hives because the bees have stings.
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My love to thee is sound, sans crack or flaw.
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Let us be Diana's foresters, gentlemen of the shade, minions of the moon.
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None can cure their harms by wailing them.
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'Tis one thing to be tempted, another thing to fall.
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Sufferance is the badge of all our tribe.
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I like not fair terms and a villain's mind.
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I wish my horse had the speed of your tongue.
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Now no way can I stray; Save back to England, all the world's my way.
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Yet, do thy worst, old Time; despite thy wrong, My love shall in my verse ever live young.
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Grief fills the room up of my absent child, Lies in his bed, walks up and down with me, Puts on his pretty look, repeats his words, Remembers me of his gracious parts, Stuffs out his vacant garments with his form
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GLOUCESTER: I do not know that Englishman alive With whom my soul is any jot at odds, More than the infant that is born to-night: I thank my God for my humility.
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Lovers and madmen have such seething brains Such shaping fantasies, that apprehend More than cool reason ever comprehends.
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Those friends thou hast, and their adoption tried, Grapple them to thy soul with hoops of steel; But do not dull thy palm with entertainment Of each new-hatch'd, unfledg'd comrade.
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Be advised; Heat not a furnace for your foe so hot That it do singe yourself: we may outrun, By violent swiftness, that which we run at, And lose by over-running. Know you not, The fire that mounts the liquor til run o'er, In seeming to augment it wastes it?
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A cup of hot wine with not a drop of allaying Tiber in 't.
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Rich gifts wax poor when givers prove unkind.
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My grief lies all within, And these external manners of lament Are merely shadows to the unseen grief That swells with silence in the tortured soul.