William Shakespeare Quotes
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When faced with a sea of troubles, take action, and in so doing end it.
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Her father lov'd me; oft invited me; Still question'd me the story of my life, From year to year, the battles, sieges, fortunes, That I have pass'd.
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My salad days, When I was green in judgment.
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[Marriage is] a world-without-end bargain.
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My thoughts are whirled like a potter's wheel; I know not where I am nor what I do.
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Love hath made thee a tame snake
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Let us, like merchants, show our foulest wares, And think perchance they'll sell; if not, The lustre of the better yet to show Shall show the better.
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Very good orators, when they are out, they will spit; and for lovers, lacking--God warn us!--matter, the cleanliest shift is to kiss.
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Sin will pluck on sin.
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To sue to live, I find I seek to die; And, seeking death, find life: let it come on.
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Un-thread the rude eye of rebellion, and welcome home again discarded faith.
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I wish you all the joy that you can wish.
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Demetrius: Villain, what hast thou done? Aaron: That which thou canst not undo. Chiron: Thou hast undone our mother. Aaron: Villain, I have done thy mother.
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But most it is presumption in us when the help of heaven we count the act of men.
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No villainous bounty yet hath passed my heart; Unwisely, not ignobly, have I given.
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I do love nothing in the world so well as you – is not that strange?
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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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This is a gift that I have, simple, simple; a foolish extravagant spirit full of forms, figures, shapes, objects, ideas, apprehensions, motions, revolutions; these are begot in the ventricle of memory, nourished in the womb of pia mater, and delivered upon the mellowing of occasion.
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'Tis not enough to help the feeble up, but to support them after.
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I am not prone to weeping as our sex commonly are; the want of which vain dew perchance shall dry your pities; but I have that honorable grief lodged here which burns worse than tears drown.
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Nymph, in thy orisons be all my sins remembered!
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Well could he ride, and often men would say, "That horse his mettle from his rider takes: Proud of subjection, noble by the sway, What rounds, what bounds, what course, what stop he makes!" And controversy hence a question takes, Whether the horse by him became his deed, Or he his manage by the well-doing steed.
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I should think this a gull, but that the white-bearded fellow speaks it; knavery cannot, sure, hide himself in such reverence.
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Can it be That modesty may more betray our sense Than woman's lightness? Having waste ground enough, Shall we desire to raze the sanctuary And pitch our evils there?