William Shakespeare Quotes
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Myself--a prince by fortune of my birth, Near to the king in blood, and near in love Till you did make him misinterpret me-- Have stooped my neck under your injuries And sighed my English breath in foreign clouds, Eating the bitter bread of banishment, Whilst you have fed upon my signories, Disparked my parks and felled my forest woods, From my own windows torn my household coat, Rased out my imprese, leaving me no sign, Save men's opinions and my living blood, To show the world I am a gentleman.
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And in some perfumes there is more delight than in the breath that from my mistress reeks. I love to hear her speak, yet well I know that music hath a far more pleasing sound.
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Cease thy counsel, for thy words fall into my ears as priceless as water into a seive.
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Leave us to our free election.
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Conscience doth make cowards of us all.
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He hath borne himself beyond the promise of his age, doing, in the figure of a lamb, the feats of a lion.
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Awake, awake, English nobility! Let not sloth dim your horrors new-begot.
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The gallantry of his grief did put me into a towering passion.
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Men at some time are masters of their fates.
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Come now, what masques, what dances shall we have To wear away this long age of three hours Between our after-supper and bedtime?
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So quick bright things come to confusion.
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Superfluity comes sooner by white hairs, but competency lives longer.
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He is deformed, crooked, old and sere, Ill-faced, worse bodied, shapeless everywhere; Vicious, ungentle, foolish, blunt, unkind; Stigmatical in making, worse in mind.
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Why then, O brawling love! O loving hate! O any thing, of nothing first create! O heavy lightness, serious vanity, Misshapen chaos of well-seeming forms, Feather of lead, bright smoke, cold fire, sick health, Still-waking sleep, that is not what it is! This love feel I, that feel no love in this.
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Beggar that I am, I am even poor in thanks
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The sight of lovers feedeth those in love.
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Time's glory is to command contending kings, To unmask falsehood, and bring truth to light.
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Ay, that incestuous, that adulterate beast, With witchcraft of his wit, with traitorous gifts- O wicked wit and gifts, that have the power So to seduce!
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It is the stars, The stars above us, govern our conditions.
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There is some soul of goodness in things evil, Would men observingly distill it out.
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The insolence of office.
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Here is a rural fellow that will not be denied your Highness' presence: he brings you figs.
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Tis safter to be that which we destroy Than by destruction dwell in doubtful joy.
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Dissembling courtesy! How fine this tyrant can trickle when she wounds!