William Shakespeare Quotes
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That we would do We should do when we would, for this 'would' changes, And hath abatements and delays as many As there are tongues, are hands, are accidents, And then this 'should' is like a spendthrift sigh, That hurts by easing.
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My crown is called content, a crown that seldom kings enjoy.
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And thou, all-shaking thunder, Strike flat the thick rotundity o' the world! Crack nature's moulds, all germens spill at once That makes ingrateful man!
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Though those that are betray'd Do feel the treason sharply, yet the traitor stands in worse case of woe
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I could a tale unfold whose lightest word Would harrow up thy soul, freeze thy young blood, Make thy two eyes like stars start from their spheres, Thy knotted and combined locks to part, And each particular hair to stand on end Like quills upon the fretful porpentine. But this eternal blazon must not be To ears of flesh and blood. List, list, O list!
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Sound trumpets! Let our bloody colours wave! And either victory, or else a grave.
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Thoughts are but dreams till their effects are tried.
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When devils will the blackest sins put on They do suggest at first with heavenly shows
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Upon his royal face there is no note how dread an army hath enrounded him.
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A young man married is a man that's marred.
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He jests at scars that never felt a wound.
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Why, this hath not a finger's dignity.
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A lean cheek; which you have not: a blue eye, and sunken; which you have not: an unquestionable spirit; which you have not: a beard neglected; which you have not: — but I pardon you for that; for, simply, your having1 in beard is a younger brother's revenue: — Then your hose should be ungarter'd, your bonnet unhanded, your sleeve unbuttoned, your shoe untied, and every thing about you demonstrating a careless desolation.
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A politician... one that would circumvent God.
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Had I but served my God with half the zeal I served my king, he would not in mine age have left me naked to mine enemies.
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O madam, my old heart is cracked, it's cracked!
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Now old desire doth in his deathbed lie, And young affection gapes to be his heir; That fair for which love groan'd for and would die, With tender Juliet match'd, is now not fair.
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Being daily swallowed by men's eyes, They surfeited with honey and began To loathe the taste of sweetness, whereof a little More than a little is by much too much. So, when he had occasion to be seen, He was but as the cuckoo is in June. Heard, not regarded.
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So get the start of the majestic world And bear the palm alone.
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They told me I was everything. 'Tis a lie, I am not ague-proof.
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To mourn a mischief that is past and gone Is the next way to draw new mischief on.
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Either our history shall with full mouth Speak freely of our acts, or else our grave, Like Turkish mute, shall have a tongueless mouth, Not worshipped with a waxen epitaph.
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Blow, winds, and crack your cheeks! Rage! Blow! You cataracts and hurricanoes, spout Till you have drenched our teeples, drowned the cocks! You sulphurour and thought-executing fires, Vaunt-couriers to oak-cleaving thunderbolts, Singe my white head! And thou, all-shaking thunder, Strike flat the thick rotundity o' the world! Crack nature's molds, all germens spill at once That make ingrateful man!
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Then will I raise aloft the milk-white rose. For whose sweet smell the air shall be perfumed.