William Shakespeare Quotes
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It is a basilisk unto mine eye, Kills me to look on't.
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This liberty is all that I request.
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I feel within me a peace above all earthly dignities, a still and quiet conscience.
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...Vaulted with such ease into his seat, As if an angel dropp'd down from the clouds, To turn and wind a fiery Pegasus, And witch the world with noble horsemanship.
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Wooing, wedding, and repenting is as a Scotch jig, a measure, and a cinque-pace: the first suit is hot and hasty like a Scotch jig--and full as fantastical; the wedding, mannerly modest, as a measure, full of state and ancientry; and then comes repentance and with his bad legs falls into the cinque-pace faster and faster, till he sink into his grave.
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The heart hath treble wrong When it is barr'd the aidance of the tongue.
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That but this blow Might be the be-all and the end – all here, But here, upon this bank and shoal of time, We'ld jump the life to come.
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I had rather be a dog, and bay the moon, Than such a Roman.
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Patch grief with proverbs.
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Flout 'em, and scout 'em; and scout 'em, and flout 'em; / Thought is free.
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Men must learn now with pity to dispense; For policy sits above conscience.
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The hind that would be mated by the lion Must die for love.
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I'll teach you differences.
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I have not slept. Between the acting of a dreadful thing And the first motion, all the interim is Like a phantasma, or a hideous dream: The Genius and the mortal instruments Are then in council; and the state of man, Like to a little kingdom, suffers then The nature of an insurrection.
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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 can give the loser leave to chide.
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You have her father's love, Demetrius; Let me have Hermia's: do you marry him!
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Some falls the means are happier to rise.
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Friends now fast sworn, Whose double bosoms seems to wear one heart, Whose hours, whose bed, whose meal and exercise Are still together, who twin, as 'twere, in love, Unseparable, shall within this hour, On a dissension of a doit, break out To bitterest enmity; so fellest foes, Whose passions and whose plots have broke their sleep To take the one the other, by some chance, Some trick not worth an egg, shall grow dear friends And interjoin their issues.
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To some kind of men their graces serve them but as enemies.
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So may the outward shows be least themselves; The world is still deceived with ornament.
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Present fears are less than horrible imaginings.
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You wear out a good wholesome forenoon in hearing a cause between an orange wife and a fosset-seller.
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Our thoughts are ours, their ends none of our own