William Shakespeare Quotes
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I had rather be a dog, and bay the moon, Than such a Roman.
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Let us not burden our remembrances with a heaviness that's gone.
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If ever thou be'st bound in thy scarf and beaten, thou shalt find what it is to be proud of thy bondage.
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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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Love is merely a madness; and, I tell you, deserves as well a dark house and a whip as madmen do; and the reason why they are not so punish'd and cured is that the lunacy is so ordinary that the whippers are in love too.
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The heart hath treble wrong When it is barr'd the aidance of the tongue.
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The loyalty, well held to fools, does make Our faith mere folly.
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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.
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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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Perseverance... keeps honor bright: to have done, is to hang quite out of fashion, like a rusty nail in monumental mockery.
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To this urn let those repair That are either true or fair; For these dead birds sigh a prayer.
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There is an old poor man,. . . . Oppress'd with two weak evils, age and hunger.
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Pause awhile, And let my counsel sway you.
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When lenity and cruelty play for a kingdom, the gentler gamester is the soonest winner
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A merry heart goes all the way, - A sad one tires inan hour.
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The fool multitude, that choose by show, not learning more than the fond eye doth teach.
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But say, my lord, it were not regist'red, Methinks the truth should live from age to age, As 'twere retailed to all posterity, Even to the general all-ending day.
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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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To die, to sleep - To sleep, perchance to dream - ay, there's the rub, For in this sleep of death what dreams may come.
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I came, saw, and overcame.
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Read o'er this And after, this, and then to breakfast with What appetite you have.
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Those that much covet are with gain so fond, For what they have not, that which they possess They scatter and unloose it from their bond, And so, by hoping more, they have but less; Or, gaining more, the profit of excess Is but to surfeit, and such griefs sustain, That they prove bankrupt in this poor-rich gain.
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The very substance of the ambitious is merely the shadow of a dream.
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So may the outward shows be least themselves; The world is still deceived with ornament.