William Shakespeare Quotes
-
I'll forbear; And am fallen out with my more headier will To take the indisposed and sickly fit For the sound man.
-
What's gone, and what's past help, Should be past grief.
-
Men at some time are masters of their fates.
-
Faults that are rich are fair.
-
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.
-
Alack, there lies more peril in thine eye Than twenty of their swords: look thou but sweet, And I am proof against their enmity.
-
A wicked conscience mouldeth goblins swift as frenzy thoughts.
-
Golden lads and girls all must as chimney sweepers come to dust.
-
O God, that men should put an enemy in their mouths to steal away their brains!" - Cassio (Act II, Scene iii)
-
My thoughts are whirled like a potter's wheel; I know not where I am nor what I do.
-
So quick bright things come to confusion.
-
How far that little candle throws its beams! So shines a good deed in a naughty world.
-
What's Hecuba to him, or he to Hecuba, That he should weep for her?
-
Home-keeping youth have ever homely wits.
-
When workmen strive to do better than well, they do confound their skill in covetousness.
-
The love that follows us sometime is our trouble, which still we thank as love.
-
There's rosemary, that's for remembrance; pray you, love, remember: and there is pansies, that's for thoughts. There's fennel for you, and columbines: — there 's rue for you; and here's some for me: — we may call it, herb of grace o'Sundays: — you may wear your rue with a difference. — There's a daisy: — I would give you some violets; but they withered all, when my father died: — They say, he made a good end.
-
I will be treble-sinewed, hearted, breathed, And fight maliciously; for when mine hours Were nice and lucky, men did ransom lives Of me for jests; but now I'll set my teeth And send to darkness all that stop me.
-
I like this place and could willingly waste my time in it.
-
So now I have confessed that he is thine, And I my self am mortgaged to thy will, My self I'll forfeit, so that other mine, Thou wilt restore to be my comfort still.
-
I would with such perfection govern, sir, T'excel the golden age.
-
A sympathy in choice.
-
Manhood is melted into courtesies, valor into compliment, and men are only turned into tongue, and trim ones, too.
-
Maids want nothing but husbands, and when they have them, they want everything.