William Shakespeare Quotes
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Thy best of rest is sleep, And that thou oft provok'st; yet grossly fear'st Thy death, which is no more.
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Thou frothy tickle-brained hedge-pig!
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The small amount of foolery wise men have makes a great show.
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Let me, if not by birth, have lands by wit; All with me's meet that I can fashion fit.
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But flies an eagle flight, bold and forth on, Leaving no tract behind.
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Are you up to your destiny?
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I like this place and could willingly waste my time in it.
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To you your father should be as a god; One that composed your beauties, yea, and one To whom you are but as a form in wax, By him imprinted, and within his power To leave the figure or disfigure it.
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The sight of lovers feedeth those in love.
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Now, good digestion wait on appetite, and health on both!
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Shall I not take mine ease in mine inn but I shall have my pocket picked?
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The head is not more native to the heart.
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Is there no pity sitting in the clouds, That sees into the bottom of my grief?
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My grief lies all within, And these external manners of lament Are merely shadows to the unseen grief That swells with silence in the tortured soul.
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All pity choked with custom of fell deeds.
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You are thought here to the most senseless and fit man for the job.
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Will you walk out of the air, my lord? HAMLET Into my grave.
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How strange or odd some'er I bear myself, As I perchance hereafter shall think meet To put an antic disposition on.
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Lady, you know no rules of charity, Which renders good for bad, blessings for curses.
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When words are scarce they are seldom spent in vain.
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The painful warrior famous for fight, After a thousand victories, once foil'd, Is from the books of honor razed quite, And all the rest forgot for which he toil'd
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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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You cram these words into mine ears against The stomach of my sense.
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In peace there's nothing so becomes a man As modest stillness and humility: But when the blast of war blows in our ears, Then imitate the action of the tiger; Stiffen the sinews, summon up the blood, Disguise fair nature with hard-favour'd rage; Then lend the eye a terrible aspect; . . . . Now set the teeth and stretch the nostril wide, Hold hard the breath and bend up every spirit To his full height. On, on, you noblest English.