William Shakespeare Quotes
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Good Hamlet, cast thy nighted colour off ... Do not for ever with thy vailed lids Seek for thy noble father in the dust.
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We cannot all be masters.
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Pleasure and action make the hours seem short.
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What is a man, if his chief good and market of his time be but to sleep and feed? a beast, no more. Sure he that made us with such large discourse, looking before and after, gave us not that capability and god-like reason to fust in us unused.
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The seasons change their manners, as the year Had found some months asleep and leapt them over.
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A merry heart goes all the way, - A sad one tires inan hour.
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JAQUES: Rosalind is your love's name? ORLANDO: Yes, just. JAQUES: I do not like her name. ORLANDO: There was no thought of pleasing you when she was christened.
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But whate'er you are That in this desert inaccessible, Under the shade of melancholy boughs, Lose and neglect the creeping hours of time; If you have ever looked on better days, If ever been where bells knoll'd to church, If ever sat at any good man's feast, If ever from your eyelids wiped a tear, And know what 'tis to pity and be pitied, Let gentleness my strong enforcement be. . . .
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In delay there lies no plenty.
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Get thee a good husband, and use him as he uses thee.
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I pray thee cease thy counsel, Which falls into mine ears as profitless as water in a sieve.
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A man cannot make him laugh - but that's no marvel; he drinks no wine.
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A gentleman that loves to hear himself talk, will speak more in a minute than he will stand to in a month.
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Thou art thy mother's glass, and she in thee Calls back the lovely April of her prime...
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Yet this my comfort: when your words are done, My woes end likewise with the evening sun.
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Silence is the perfectest herault of joy. I were but little happy if I could say how much.
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Costly thy habit [dress] as thy purse can buy; But not expressed in fancy - rich, not gaudy. For the apparel oft proclaims the man.
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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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A dream itself is but a shadow.
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By innocence I swear, and by my youth, I have one heart, one bosom, and one truth, And that no woman has, nor never none Shall mistress be of it save I alone.
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When great leaves fall, the winter is at hand.
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Oh! it offends me to the soul to hear a robust periwig-pated fellow, tear a passion to tatters, to very rags, to split the ears of the groundlings.
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Happy are they that hear their detractions, and can put them to mending.
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But now behold, In the quick forge and working-house of thought, How London doth pour out her citizens!