William Shakespeare Quotes
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Nay, we must think men are not gods, Nor of them look for such observancy As fits the bridal.
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A knot you are of damned bloodsuckers.
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When rich villains have need of poor ones, poor ones may make what price they will
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Sir, he's a good dog, and a fair dog.
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Let still woman take An elder than herself: so wears she to him, So sways she level in her husband's heart, For, boy, however we do praise ourselves, Our fancies are more giddy and unfirm, More longing, wavering, sooner to be lost and warn, Than women's are.
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For I am fresh of spirit, and resolved To meet all perils very constantly.
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They love least that let men know their loves.
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'Tis not enough to help the feeble up, but to support them after.
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Tis an ill cook that cannot lick his own fingers.
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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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Alas, that love, whose view is muffled still, Should without eyes see pathways to his will!
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I once did hold it, as our statists do, A baseness to write fair, and labour'd much How to forget that learning; but, sir, now It did me yeoman's service.
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Well, God give them wisdom that have it; and those that are fools, let them use their talents.
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Value dwells not in particular will; It holds his estimate and dignity As well wherein 'tis precious of itself As in the prizer.
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Press not a falling man too far; 'tis virtue: His faults lie open to the laws; let them, Not you, correct him.
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[Marriage is] a world-without-end bargain.
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Kent. Where's the king? Gent. Contending with the fretful elements; Bids the wind blow the earth into the sea, Or swell the curled waters 'bove the main, That things might change or cease; tears his white hair, Which the impetuous blasts, with eyeless rage, Catch in their fury and make nothing of; Strives in his little world of man to outscorn The to-and-fro-conflicting wind and rain. This night, wherein the cub-drawn bear would couch, The lion and the belly-pinched wolf Keep their fur dry, unbonneted he runs, And bids what will take all.
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Drink, sir, is a great provoker of three things . . . nose-painting, sleep, and urine. Lechery, sir, it provokes, and unprovokes; it provokes the desire, but it takes away the performance.
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My salad days, When I was green in judgment.
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Where every something, being blent together turns to a wild of nothing.
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Vile worm, thou wast o'erlook'd even in thy birth.
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A true repentance shuns the evil itself, more than the external suffering or the shame.
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There's rosemary and rue. These keep Seeming and savor all the winter long. Grace and remembrance be to you.
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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.