William Shakespeare Quotes
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The clock upbraids me with the waste of time.
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All his successors gone before him have done 't; and all his ancestors that come after him may.
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We, ignorant of ourselves, Beg often our own harms, which the wise powers Deny us for our good; so find we profit By losing of our prayers.
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The more pity, that fools may not speak wisely what wise men do foolishly.
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To be merry best becomes you; for, out of question, you were born in a merry hour.
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Or art thou but / A dagger of the mind, a false creation, / Proceeding from the heat-oppressed brain?
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Ambition, the soldier's virtue, rather makes choice of loss, than gain which darkens him.
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He must needs go that the devil drives.
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Why, all delights are vain; but that most vain, Which, with pain purchas'd, doth inherit pain.
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Honor, riches, marriage-blessing Long continuance, and increasing, Hourly joys be still upon you!
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The web of our life is of a mingled yarn, good and ill together: our virtues would be proud if our faults whipped them not; and our crimes would despair if they were not cherished by our own virtues.
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O, my offence is rank, it smells to heaven
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Read o'er this And after, this, and then to breakfast with What appetite you have.
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Tear-falling pity dwells not in this eye.
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What is past is prologue.
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Let me not to the marriage of true minds Admit impediments. Love is not love Which alters when it alteration finds, Or bends with the remover to remove: O no! it is an ever-fixed mark That looks on tempests and is never shaken; It is the star to every wandering bark, Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken. Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks Within his bending sickle's compass come: Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks, But bears it out even to the edge of doom. If this be error and upon me proved, I never writ, nor no man ever loved.
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Set honour in one eye and death i' the other, And I will look on both indifferently.
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So may I, blind fortune leading me, Miss that which one unworthier may attain, And die with grieving.
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When that the poor have cried, Caesar hath wept: Ambition should be made of sterner stuff: Yet Brutus says he was ambitious; And Brutus is an honourable man.
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I came, saw, and overcame.
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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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Pause awhile, And let my counsel sway you.
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The fool multitude, that choose by show, not learning more than the fond eye doth teach.
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Music can minister to minds diseased, pluck from the memory a rooted sorrow, raze out the written troubles of the brain, and with its sweet oblivious antidote, cleanse the full bosom of all perilous stuff that weighs upon the heart.