William Shakespeare Quotes
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I will be brief. Your noble son is mad.
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I wish my horse had the speed of your tongue.
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Heaven - the treasury of everlasting life.
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Ay, in the catalogue ye go for men; As hounds, and greyhounds, mongrels, spaniels, curs, Shoughs, water-rugs, and demi-wolves, are 'clept All by the name of dogs: the valued file Distinguishes the swift, the slow, the subtle, The housekeeper, the hunter, every one According to the gift which bounteous nature Hath in him closed.
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With this special observance, that you o'erstep not the modesty of nature. for anything so overdone is from the purpose of playing, whose end, both at the first and now, was and is, to hold, as 'twere, the mirror up to nature.
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An overflow of good converts to bad.
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Falsehood falsehood cures
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The rain, it raineth every day.
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Methinks a father Is at the nuptial of his son a guest That best becomes the table.
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Temptation: the fiend at my elbow.
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The breaking of so great a thing should make A greater crack: the round world Should have shook lions into civil streets, And citizens to their dens.
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Love moderately; long love doth so; too swift arrives as tardy as too slow.
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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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Virtue is chok'd with foul ambition
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Lords, I protest my soul is full of woe That blood should sprinkle me to make me grow. Come, mourn with me for what I do lament, And put sullen black incontinent. I'll make a voyage to the Holy Land To wash this blood off from my guilty hand. March sadly after. Grace my mournings here In weeping after this untimely bier.
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I had rather eleven died nobly for their country than one voluptuously surfeit out of action.
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Ere I could make thee open thy white hand, and clap thyself my love; then didst thou utter, I am your's for ever!
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I like not fair terms and a villain's mind.
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What hands are here? ha! they pluck out mine eyes! Will all great Neptune’s ocean wash this blood clean from my hand? No; this my hand will rather the multitudinous seas incarnadine, making the green one red.” “My hands are of your colour; but I shame to wear a heart so white. A little water clears us of this deed: How easy it is then! Your constancy hath left you unattended.
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A peevish self-willed harlotry it is. *She’s a stubborn little brat.*
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Live loath'd and long, Most smiling, smooth, detested parasites, Courteous destroyers, affable wolves, meek bears, You fools of fortune, trencher friends, time flies Cap and knee slaves, vapors, and minute jacks.
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Thy tongue Makes Welsh as sweet as ditties highly penn'd, Sung by a fair queen in a summer's bower, With ravishing division, to her lute.
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O, beware, my lord, of jealousy; It is the green-ey'd monster, which doth mock The meat it feeds on.
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Fie, fie upon her! There's language in her eye, her cheek, her lip, Nay, her foot speaks; her wanton spirits look out At every joint and motive of her body.