William Shakespeare Quotes
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When he is best, he is a little worse than a man; and when he is worst, he is little better than a beast.
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Shall I compare thee to a summer's day? Thou art more lovely and more temperate: Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May, And summer's lease hath all too short a date . . .
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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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Love, whose month is ever May, Spied a blossom passing fair, Playing in the wanton air: Through the velvet leaves the wind, All unseen can passage find; That the lover, sick to death, Wish'd himself the heaven's breath.
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Live in thy shame, but die not shame with thee!
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Can we outrun the heavens?
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My soul is in the sky.
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Some sins do bear their privilege on earth, And so doth yours: your fault was not your folly; Needs must you lay your heart at his dispose, Subjected tribute to commanding love, Against whose fury and unmatched force The aweless lion could not wage the fight Nor keep his princely heart from Richard's hand.
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Thou unfit for any place but hell.
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Well, honor is the subject of my story.
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it provokes the desire, but it takes away the performance
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The why is plain as way to parish church: He that a fool doth very wisely hit Doth very foolishly, although he smart, Not to seem senseless of the bob; if not, The wise man's folly is anatomiz'd Even by the squand'ring glances of the fool.
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Whereto serves mercy But to confront the visage of offense?
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Too much to know is to know naught but fame.
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In delay there lies no plenty.
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Most subject is the fattest soil to weeds.
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Thou art a slave, whom fortune's tender arm With favour never clasp'd; but bred a dog.
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Forbear to judge, for we are sinners all.
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O, how full of briers is this working-day world!
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When great leaves fall, the winter is at hand.
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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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For man is a giddy thing, and this is my conclusion.
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To some kind of men their graces serve them but as enemies.
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I wish you all the joy that you can wish.