William Shakespeare Quotes
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One sin another doth provoke.
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Sorrow, like a heavy ringing bell, once set on ringing, with its own weight goes; then little strength rings out the doleful knell.
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My friends were poor, but honest, so's my love.
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The hideous god of war.
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For death remembered should be like a mirror, Who tells us life’s but breath, to trust it error.
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Misery makes sport to mock itself.
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I know them, yea, And what they weigh, even to the utmost scruple; Scambling, out-facing, fashion-mong'ring boys, That lie, and cog, and flout, deprave, and slander, Go antickly, and show outward hideousness, And speak off half a dozen dangerous words, How they might hurt their enemies, if they durst; And this is all.
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So many hours must I take my rest; So many hours must I contemplate.
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Do not speak like a death's-head, do not bid me remember mine end.
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And nothing can we call our own but death And that small model of the barren earth Which serves as paste and cover to our bones. For God's sake, let us sit upon the ground And tell sad stories of the death of kings.
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Alas, that love, whose view is muffled still, Should without eyes see pathways to his will!
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you saw her fair, none else being by, Herself pois'd with herself in either eye; But in that crystal scales let there be weigh'd Your lady's love against some other maid That I will show you shining at this feast, And she shall scant show well that now seems best.
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I must be cruel only to be kind; Thus bad begins, and worse remains behind.
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My salad days, When I was green in judgment.
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If we are true to ourselves, we can not be false to anyone.
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In law, what plea so tainted and corrupts, but being seasoned with a gracious voice obscures the show of evil.
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Were I the Moor I would not be Iago. In following him I follow but myself; Heaven is my judge, not I for love and duty, But seeming so for my peculiar end. For when my outward action doth demonstrate The native act and figure of my heart In compliment extern, ’tis not long after But I will wear my heart upon my sleeve For daws to peck at. I am not what I am
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Teach not thy lip such scorn, for it was made For kissing, lady, not for such contempt.
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Is it not strange that desire should so many years outlive performance?
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Now, by the world, it is a lusty wench; I love her ten times more than e'er I did: O, how I long to have some chat with her!