William Shakespeare Quotes
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My meaning in saying he is a good man, is to have you understand me that he is sufficient.
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Romeo: Courage, man; the hurt cannot be much. Mercutio: No, 'tis not so deep as a well, nor so wide as a church-door; but 'tis enough, 'twill serve. Ask for me tomorrow, and you shall find me a grave man.
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My father names me Autolycus, who being, as I am, littered under Mercury, was likewise a snapper-up of unconsidered trifles.
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The cunning livery of hell.
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An angel; or, if not, An earthly paragon.
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Though patience be a tired mare, yet she will plod.
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Oh what fools we mortals are.
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Too much of water hast thou, poor Ophelia, And therefore I forbid my tears.
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England, bound in with the triumphant sea, Whose rocky shore beats back the envious siege Of watery Neptune.
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Opinion's but a fool, that makes us scan The outward habit by the inward man.
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Let's go hand in hand, not one before another.
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O how wretched is that poor man that hangs on princes favors! There is betwixt that smile we would aspire to, that sweet aspect of princes, and their ruin, more pangs and fears than wars or women have, and when he falls, he falls like Lucifer, never to hope again.
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Age cannot wither her, nor custom stale Her infinite variety.
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She marking them begins a wailing note And sings extemporally a woeful ditty How love makes young men thrall and old men dote How love is wise in folly, foolish-witty Her heavy anthem still concludes in woe, And still the choir of echoes answer so.
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We do not keep the outward form of order, where there is deep disorder in the mind.
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So shows a snowy dove trooping with crows As yonder lady o'er her fellows shows.
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They lie deadly that tell you have good faces.
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QUINCE Francis Flute, the bellows-mender. FLUTE Here, Peter Quince. QUINCE Flute, you must take Thisby on you. FLUTE What is Thisby? a wandering knight? QUINCE It is the lady that Pyramus must love. FLUTE Nay, faith, let me not play a woman; I have a beard coming.
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Never play with the feelings of others, because you may win the game but the risk is that you will surely lose the person for life time
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Brevity is the soul of wit.
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And so, from hour to hour, we ripe and ripe. And then, from hour to hour, we rot and rot; And thereby hangs a tale.
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Oh, she doth teach the torches to burn bright!
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Then to Silvia let us sing that Silvia is excelling. She excels each mortal thing upon the dull earth dwelling.
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If I may trust the flattering truth of sleep, My dreams presage some joyful news at hand. My bosom's lord sits lightly in his throne, And all this day an unaccustomed spirit Lifts me above the ground with cheerful thoughts.