William Shakespeare Quotes
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Every fair from fair sometime declines
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Thou hast seen a farmer's dog bark at a beggar? And the creature run from the cur. There thou mightst behold the great image of authority-a dog's obeyed in office.
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Lovers and madmen have such seething brains Such shaping fantasies, that apprehend More than cool reason ever comprehends.
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There's a divinity that shapes our ends, Rough-hew them how we will.
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Good fortune then! To make me blest or cursed'st among men.
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Avaunt, you cullions!
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Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks within his bending sickle's compass come.
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Gnawing with my teeth my bonds in sunder, I gain'd my freedom.
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I do the wrong, and first begin to brawl. The secret mischiefs that I set abroach I lay unto the grievous charge of others.
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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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His neigh is like the bidding of a monarch, and his countenance enforces homage. He is indeed a horse.
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All's well that ends well; still the fine's the crown. Whate'er the course, the end is the renown.
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Thrice is he arm'd that hath his quarrel just, And he but naked, though lock'd up in steel, Whose conscience with injustice is corrupted.
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RUMOUR: "Upon my tongues continual slanders ride, The which in every language I pronounce, Stuffing the ears of men with false reports.
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What's to come is still unsure: In delay there lies no plenty; Then come kiss me, sweet and twenty, Youth's a stuff will not endure.
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Hast any philosophy in thee shepherd? .• • • • . . . He that wants money, means and content, is without three good friends; that the property of rain is to wet and fire to burn; that good pasture makes fat sheep, and a great cause of the night is lack of the sun; that he that hath learned no wit by nature nor art may complain of good breeding or comes of a very dull kindred.
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All difficulties are easy when they are known.
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Plutus himself, That knows the tinct and multiplying med'cine, Hath not in nature's mystery more science Than I have in this ring.
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From women's eyes this doctrine I derive: They sparkle still the right Promethean fire; They are the books, the arts, the academes, That show, contain and nourish all the world.
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Our jovial star reigned at his birth.
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Tis much when sceptres are in children's hands, But more when envy breeds unkind division: There comes the ruin, there begins confusion.
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Sin, that amends, is but patched with virtue.
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But wherefore could not I pronounce 'Amen'? I had most need of blessing, and 'Amen' Stuck in my throat.
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I had rather eleven died nobly for their country than one voluptuously surfeit out of action.