William Shakespeare Quotes
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More of your conversation would infect my brain.
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The king's name is a tower of strength.
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These cardinals trifle with me; I abhor; This dilatory sloth and tricks of Rome.
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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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'Tis one thing to be tempted, another thing to fall.
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We see which way the stream of time doth run.
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The morning steals upon the night, Melting the darkness.
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When we our betters see bearing our woes, We scarcely think our miseries our foes.
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Better be with the dead, Whom we to gain our peace, have sent to peace, Than on the torture of the mind to lie In restless ecstasy.
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Fight to the last gasp.
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O, while you live, tell truth, and shame the Devil!
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I pray you, in your letters, When you shall these unlucky deeds relate, Speak of me as I am; nothing extenuate, Nor set down aught in malice. Then must you speak Of one that loved not wisely but too well; Of one not easily jealous, but being wrought, Perplexed in the extreme. . .
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The cheek Is apter than the tongue to tell an errand.
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You abilities are too infant-like for doing much alone.
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O serpent heart hid with a flowering face! Did ever a dragon keep so fair a cave? Beautiful tyrant, feind angelical, dove feather raven, wolvish-ravening lamb! Despised substance of devinest show, just opposite to what thou justly seemest - A dammed saint, an honourable villain!
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At once, good night- Stand not upon the order of your going, But go at once.
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My cousin's a fool, and thou art another.
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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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Care for us! True, indeed! They ne'er cared for us yet: suffer us to famish, and their storehouses crammed with grain; make edicts for usury, to support usurers; repeal daily any wholesome act established against the rich, and provide more piercing statutes daily to chain up and restrain the poor. If the wars eat us not up, they will; and there's all the love they bear us.
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Love laughs at locksmiths.
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Piece out our imperfections with your thoughts.
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I'll forbear; And am fallen out with my more headier will To take the indisposed and sickly fit For the sound man.
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Wrong hath but wrong, and blame the due of blame.
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They may seize On the white wonder of dear Juliet's hand And steal immortal blessing from her lips, Who, even in pure and vestal modesty, Still blush, as thinking their own kisses sin.