William Shakespeare Quotes
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The common curse of mankind, folly and ignorance, be thine in great revenue!
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If all the year were playing holidays; To sport would be as tedious as to work.
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Hide not thy poison with such sugar'd words
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so full of shapes is fancy
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Stars, hide your fires; Let not light see my black and deep desires.
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Desire of having is the sin of covetousness.
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Educated men are so impressive.
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Lord, I could not endure a husband with a beard on his face! I had rather lie in the woolen.
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And writers say, as the most forward bud Is eaten by the canker ere it blow, Even so by love the young and tender wit Is turn'd to folly, blasting in the bud, Losing his verdure even in the prime, And all the fair effects of future hopes.
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DON PEDRO Come, lady, come; you have lost the heart of Signior Benedick. BEATRICE Indeed, my lord, he lent it me awhile; and I gave him use for it, a double heart for his single one: marry, once before he won it of me with false dice, therefore your grace may well say I have lost it. DON PEDRO You have put him down, lady, you have put him down. BEATRICE So I would not he should do me, my lord, lest I should prove the mother of fools.
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To mingle friendship far is mingling bloods.
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Now the good gods forbid That our renowned Rome, whose gratitude Towards her deserved children is enrolled In Jove's own book, like an unnatural dam Should now eat up her own!
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This is some fellow, Who having been prais'd for bluntness, doth affect A saucy roughness and constrains the garb Quite from his nature: he can't flatter, he! An honest mind and plain,--he must speak truth! And they will take it so; if not he's plain. These kind of knaves I know, which in this plainness Harbor more craft, and far corrupter ends, Than twenty silly, ducking observants, That stretch their duty nicely.
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Our enemies are our outward consciences.
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Love asks me no questions, and gives me endless support.
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Have I thought long to see this morning’s face, And doth it give me such a sight as this?
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The due of honor in no point omit.
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Winter's not gone yet, if the wild geese fly that way.
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Orpheus with his lute made trees, And the mountain tops that freeze, Bow themselves, when he did sing; To his music, plants and flowers Ever sprung; as sun and showers There had made a lasting spring. Every thing that heard him play, Even the billows of the sea, Hung their heads, and then lay by. In sweet music is such art, Killing care and grief of heart Fall asleep, or hearing, die.
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Well, every one can master a grief but he that has it.
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Tis in ourselves that we are thus, or thus.
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Are you up to your destiny?
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The hind that would be mated by the lion Must die for love.
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Obey thy parents, keep thy word justly; swear not; commit not with man's sworn spouse; set not thy sweet heart on proud array. * * * Keep thy foot out of brothels, thy pen from lenders' books.