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King Henry: But what a point, my lord, your falcon made, And what a pitch she flew above the rest! To see how God in all his creatures works! Yea, man and birds are fain of climbing high. Suffolk: No marvel, an it like your majesty, My lord protectors hawks do tower so well; They know their masters loves to be aloft, And bears his thoughts above his falcon's pitch. Gloucester: My lord, 'tis but a base ignoble mind That mounts no higher than a bird can soar.
William Shakespeare
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Discuss unto me: art thou officer, Or art thou base, common, and popular?
William Shakespeare
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They have been at a great feast of languages, and stolen the scraps.
William Shakespeare
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I'll look to like; if looking, liking move.
William Shakespeare
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Not all the water in the rough rude sea Can wash the balm from an anointed King.
William Shakespeare
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. . . nothing in his life Became him like the leaving it; he died As one that had been studied in his death To throw away the dearest thing he owed, As 'twere a careless trifle.
William Shakespeare
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I have nothing Of woman in me; now from head to foot I am marble-constant.
William Shakespeare
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Thus die I, thus, thus, thus. Now am I dead, Now am I fled; My soul is in the sky: Tongue, lose thy light; Moon take thy flight. Now die, die, die, die, die.
William Shakespeare
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Comets importing change of times and states, Brandish your crystal tresses in the sky And with them scourge the bad revolting stars.
William Shakespeare
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O fortune, fortune! all men call thee fickle.
William Shakespeare
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An arrant traitor as any is in the universal world, or in France, or in England.
William Shakespeare
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Thou lump of foul deformity!
William Shakespeare
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Let us be Diana's foresters, gentlemen of the shade, minions of the moon.
William Shakespeare
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Full many a lady I have eyed with best regard, and many a time Th' harmony of their tongues hath into bondage Brought my too diligent ear; for several virtues Have I liked several women; never any With so full soul but some defect in her Did quarrel with the noblest grace she owed, And put it to the foil.
William Shakespeare
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Thou art the Mars of malcontents.
William Shakespeare
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He uses his folly like a stalking-horse, and under the presentation of that he shoots his wit.
William Shakespeare
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The best is yet to come.
William Shakespeare
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Away, you mouldy rogue, away!
William Shakespeare
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Can we outrun the heavens?
William Shakespeare
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There is little choice in a barrel of rotten apples.
William Shakespeare
