William Shakespeare Quotes
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So many horrid Ghosts.
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Neither my place, nor aught I heard of business, Hath raised me from my bed; nor doth the general care Take hold on me; for my particular grief Is of so floodgate and o'erbearing nature That it engluts and swallows other sorrows, And it is still itself.
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You taught me language, and my profit on't / Is, I know how to curse
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Tis no sin for a man to labor in his vocation.
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Nature teaches beasts to know their friends.
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All the world's a stage.
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Faith, stay here this night; they will surely do us no harm; you saw they speak us fair, give us gold; methinks they are such a gentle nation that, but for the mountain of mad flesh that claims marriage of me, could find in my heart to stay here still and turn witch.
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Though this be madness, yet there is method in't.
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Stars, hide your fires; Let not light see my black and deep desires.
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Time travels in divers paces with divers persons.
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My heart suspects more than mine eye can see.
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Then others for breath of words respect, Me for my dumb thoughts, speaking in effect.
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Adieu, adieu, adieu! remember me.
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Which means she to deceive, father or mother?
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Away! Thou'rt poison to my blood.
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A light heart lives long.
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The lunatic, the lover, and the poet, are of imagination all compact.
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The color of the king doth come and go, Between his purpose and his conscience, Like heralds 'twixt two dreadful battles set: His passion is so ripe, it needs must break.
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Never shame to hear what you have nobly done
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Live in thy shame, but die not shame with thee!
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Come away, come away, Death, And in sad cypress let me be laid; Fly away, fly away, breath, I am slain by a fair cruel maid. My shroud of white stuck all with yew, O prepare it! My part of death no one so true did share it. Not a flower, not a flower sweet, On my black coffin let there be strewn: Not a friend, not a friend greet My poor corpse, where my bones shall be thrown. A thousand thousand sighs to save, lay me O where Sad true lover never find my grave, to weep there!
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DEMETRIUS Relent, sweet Hermia: and, Lysander, yield Thy crazed title to my certain right. LYSANDER You have her father's love, Demetrius; Let me have Hermia's: do you marry him.
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A violet in the youth of primy nature, Forward, not permanent--sweet, not lasting; The perfume and suppliance of a minute; No more.
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Some are born great, some achieve greatness, and some have greatness thrust upon them.