William Shakespeare Quotes
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To thine own self be true, and it must follow, as the night the day, thou canst not then be false to any man.
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What is more miserable than discontent?
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I have lov'd her ever since I saw her; and still I see her beautiful
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O Romeo, Romeo! wherefore art thou Romeo? Deny thy father and refuse thy name; Or, if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love... 'Tis but thy name that is my enemy; What's in a name? that which we call a rose By any other name would smell as sweet.
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You told a lie, an odious damned lie; Upon my soul, a lie, a wicked lie.
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I love you with so much of my heart that none is left to protest.
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Friendship's full of dregs.
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True, I talk of dreams, Which are the children of an idle brain, Begot of nothing but vain fantasy, Which is as thin of substance as the air, And more inconstant than the wind, who woos Even now the frozen bosom of the north, And, being anger'd, puffs away from thence, Turning his side to the dew-dropping south.
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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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There's neither honesty, manhood, nor good fellowship in thee.
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No, I will be the pattern of all patience; I will say nothing.
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Tear-falling pity dwells not in this eye.
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Let them obey that knows not how to rule.
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Accommodated; that is, when a man is, as they say, accommodated; or when a man is, being, whereby a' may be thought to be accommodated,?which is an excellent thing.
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Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more; Or close the wall up with our English dead! In peace there's nothing so becomes a man As modest stillness and humility: But when the blast of war blows in our ears, Then imitate the action of the tiger.
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But pearls are fair; and the old saying is: Black men are pearls in beauteous ladies' eyes.
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Time travels in divers paces with divers persons. I'll tell you who Time ambles withal, who Time trots withal, who Time gallops withal, and who he stands still withal.
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Macbeth: How does your patient, doctor? Doctor: Not so sick, my lord, as she is troubled with thick-coming fancies that keep her from rest. Macbeth: Cure her of that! Canst thou not minister to a mind diseased, pluck from the memory a rooted sorrow, raze out the written troubles of the brain, and with some sweet oblivious antidote cleanse the stuffed bosom of that perilous stuff which weighs upon her heart. Doctor: Therein the patient must minister to himself.
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To be direct and honest is not safe.
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I am not bound to please thee with my answer.
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I care not, a man can die but once; we owe God and death.
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Here's that which is too weak to be a sinner, honest water, which ne'er left man i' the mire.
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Tired with all these for restful death I cry, As to behold desert a beggar born, And needy nothing trimmed in jollity, And purest faith unhappily forsworn.
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I understand thy kisses, and thou mine, And that's a feeling disputation.