William Shakespeare Quotes
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Who is here so vile that will not love his country?
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There is no slander in an allowed fool, though he do nothing but rail.
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I am but mad north-north-west. When the wind is southerly, I know a hawk from a handsaw.
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A little fire is quickly trodden out, Which, being suffer'd, rivers cannot quench.
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He that loves to be flattered is worthy o' the flatterer.
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I sat upon a promontory, And heard a mermaid, on a dolphin's back, Uttering such dulcet and harmonious breath, That the rude sea grew civil at her song; And certain stars shot madly from their spheres, To hear the sea-maid's music.
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Ever note, Lucilius, When love begins to sicken and decay It useth an enforced ceremony. There are no tricks in plain and simple faith; But hollow men, like horses hot at hand, Make gallant show and promise of their mettle; But when they should endure the bloody spur, They fall their crests, and like deceitful jades Sink in the trial.
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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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The wildest hath not such a heart as you. Run when you will, the story shall be changed: Apollo flies, and Daphne holds the chase; The dove pursues the griffin; the mild hind Makes speed to catch the tiger; bootless speed, When cowardice pursues and valour flies.
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Come, and take choice of all my library, And so beguile thy sorrow.
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The error of our eye directs our mind. What error leads must err.
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How soar sweet music is, when time is broke, and no proportion kept!
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Why should honor outlive honestly? Orthello
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Friendship is constant in all other things, save in the office and affairs of love.
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Remember thee! Ay, thou poor ghost, while memory holds a seat In this distracted globe.
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My prophecy is but half his journey yet, For yonder walls, that pertly front your town, Yon towers, whose wanton tops do buss the clouds, Must kiss their own feet.
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He's truly valiant that can wisely suffer The worst that man can breathe, and make his wrongs His outsides, to wear them like his raiment, carelessly, And ne'er prefer his injuries to his heart, To bring it into danger.
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My language! heavens!I am the best of them that speak this speech. Were I but where 'tis spoken.
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It hurts not the tongue to give fair words.
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Men that make Envy and crooked malice nourishment, Dare bite the best.
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And blind oblivion swallowed cities up.
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A little water clears us of this deed.
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O, teach me how you look, and with what art You sway the motion of Demetrius' heart."-Helena
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He was too good to be Where ill men were, and was the best of all Amongst the rar'st of good ones- sitting sadly Hearing us praise our loves of Italy For beauty that made barren the swell'd boast Of him that best could speak; for feature, laming The shrine of Venus or straight-pight Minerva, Postures beyond brief nature; for condition, A shop of all the qualities that man Loves woman for; besides that hook of wiving, Fairness which strikes the eye- CYMBELINE.