William Shakespeare Quotes
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What's done can't be undone.
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The strawberry grows underneath the nettle And wholesome berries thrive and ripen best Neighbour'd by fruit of baser quality.
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Fat paunches have lean pates, and dainty bits Make rich the ribs, but backrout quite the wits.
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The rain, it raineth every day.
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I will through and through Cleanse the foul body of th' infected world, If they will patiently receive my medicine.
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Death where is thy sting? Love, where is thy glory?
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For Brutus, as you know, was Caesar's angel: Judge, O you gods, how dearly Caesar loved him! This was the most unkindest cut of all
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Alas, how love can trifle with itself!
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Young Adam Cupid, he that shot so trim, When King Cophetua loved the beggar-maid!
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My endeavors Have ever come too short of my desires. Yet filed with my abilities.
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It is to be all made of fantasy, All made of passion and all made of wishes, All adoration, duty, and observance, All humbleness, all patience and impatience, All purity, all trial, all observance
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They are but beggars that can count their worth.
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There are many events in the womb of time which will be delivered.
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When we our betters see bearing our woes, We scarcely think our miseries our foes.
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Rich gifts wax poor when givers prove unkind.
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Here I and sorrows sit; Here is my throne, bid kings come bow to it.
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Good God, the souls of all my tribe defend From jealousy!
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An angel; or, if not, An earthly paragon.
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My love is as a fever, longing still For that which longer nurseth the disease, Feeding on that which doth preserve the ill, Th' uncertain sickly appetite to please. My reason, the physician to my love, Angry that his prescriptions are not kept, Hath left me, and I desperate now approve Desire is death, which physic did except.
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What a piece of work is a man
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A woman that is like a German clock, Still a-repairing, ever out of frame, And never going aright, being a watch, But being watched that it may still go right!
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Knavery's plain face is never seen till used.
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You'd be so lean, that blast of January Would blow you through and through. Now, my fair'st friend, I would I had some flowers o' the spring that might Become your time of day.
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I do I know not what, and fear to find Mine eye too great a flatterer for my mind. Fate, show thy force. Ourselves we do not owe. What is decreed must be; and be this so.