William Shakespeare Quotes
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You have too much respect upon the world; They lose it that do buy it with much care
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Unless hours were cups of sack, and minutes capons, and clocks the tongues of bawds, and dials the signs of leaping-houses, and the blessed sun himself a fair hot wench in flame-colored taffeta, I see no reason why thou shouldst be so superfluous to demand the time of the day.
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I am such a tender ass, if my hair do but tickle me, I must scratch.
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Love is a smoke raised with the fume of sighs; Being purged, a fire sparkling in lovers' eyes; Being vexed, a sea nourished with loving tears. What is it else? A madness most discreet, A choking gall, and a preserving sweet. *Here’s what love is: a smoke made out of lovers' sighs. When the smoke clears, love is a fire burning in your lover’s eyes. If you frustrate love, you get an ocean made out of lovers' tears. What else is love? It’s a wise form of madness. It’s a sweet lozenge that you choke on.*
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Love is too young to know what conscience is.
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it provokes the desire, but it takes away the performance
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Many dream not to find, neither deserve, and yet are steeped in favors.
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I wish you all the joy that you can wish.
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There is an old poor man,. . . . Oppress'd with two weak evils, age and hunger.
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In delay there lies no plenty.
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Thou unfit for any place but hell.
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He is not great who is not greatly good.
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Old fashions please me best; I am not so nice To change true rules for odd inventions.
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My hands are of your color, but I shame to wear a heart so white.
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What many men desire--that 'many' may be meant By the fool multitude that choose by show, Not learning more than the fond eye doth teach, Which pries not to th' interior, but like the martlet Builds in the weather on the outward wall, Even in the force and road of casualty.
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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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Guiltiness will speak, though tongues were out of use
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Lay on, McDuff, and be damned he who first cries, 'Hold, enough!
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I'll have no husband, if you be not he.
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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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Good wine needs no bush.
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To persist in doing wrong extenuates not the wrong, but makes it much more heavy.
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Beshrew the heart that makes my heart to groan.
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Life is as tedious as twice-told tale, vexing the dull ear of a drowsy man.