William Shakespeare Quotes
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I that please some, try all, both joy and terror Of good and bad, that makes and unfolds error.
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Not all the water in the rough rude sea Can wash the balm from an anointed King.
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A good old man, sir. He will be talking. As they say, when the age is in, the wit is out.
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Can we outrun the heavens?
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But no perfection is so absolute, That some impurity doth not pollute.
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Some there be that shadows kiss; Such have but a shadow's bliss.
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Home-keeping youth have ever homely wits.
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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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Love laughs at locksmiths.
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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.
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Nothing can seem foul to those who win.
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Extreme fear can neither fight nor fly.
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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.
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The summer's flow'r is to the summer sweet, Though to itself it only live and die' But if that flow'r with base infection meet, The basest weed outbraves his dignity: For sweetest things turn sourest by their deeds; Lilies that fester smell far worse than weeds.
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I do not seek to quench your love's hot fire, But qualify the fire's extreme rage, Lest it should burn above the bounds of reason.
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He draweth out the thread of his verbosity finer than the staple of his argument.
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Discuss unto me: art thou officer, Or art thou base, common, and popular?
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I were better to be eaten to death with a rust than to be scoured to nothing with perpetual motion.
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The teeming Autumn big with rich increase, bearing the wanton burden of the prime like widowed wombs after their lords decease.
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At once, good night- Stand not upon the order of your going, But go at once.
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The bay-trees in our country are all withered, And meteors fright the fixèd stars of heaven. The pale-faced moon looks bloody on the earth, And lean-looked prophets whisper fearful change. Rich men look sad, and ruffians dance and leap; The one in fear to lose what they enjoy, The other to enjoy by rage and war. These signs forerun the death or fall of kings.
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More of your conversation would infect my brain.
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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.
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The purest treasure mortal times can afford is a spotless reputation.