William Shakespeare Quotes
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Thou canst not speak of what thou dost not feel.
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Never shame to hear what you have nobly done
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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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If we shadows have offended, Think but this, and all is mended, That you have but slumbered here While these visions did appear. And this weak and idle theme, No more yielding but a dream, Gentles, do not reprehend: If you pardon, we will mend: And, as I am an honest Puck, If we have unearned luck Now to 'scape the serpent's tongue, We will make amends ere long; Else the Puck a liar call; So, good night unto you all. Give me your hands, if we be friends, And Robin shall restore amends.
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It is not in the stars to hold our destiny but in ourselves.
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Men from children nothing differ.
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We bring forth weeds when our quick minds lie still.
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Don Pedro - (...)'In time the savage bull doth bear the yoke.' Benedick - The savage bull may, but if ever the sensible Benedick bear it, pluck off the bull's horns and set them in my forehead, and let me be vildly painted; and in such great letters as they writes, 'Here is good horse for hire', let them signify under my sign, 'Here you may see Benedick the married man.
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So many horrid Ghosts.
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it is not enough to speak, but to speak truee
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Nice customs curtsy to great kings.
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Passion makes the will lord of the reason.
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Blood will have blood.
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Nature teaches beasts to know their friends.
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Stay, my lord, And let your reason with your choler question What 'tis you go about: to climb steep hills Requires slow pace at first: anger is like A full-hot horse, who being allow'd his way, Self-mettle tires him. Not a man in England Can advise me like you: be to yourself As you would to your friend.
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Some are born great, some achieve greatness, and some have greatness thrust upon them.
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O, how I faint when I of you do write, Knowing a better spirit doth use your name, And in the praise thereof spends all his might To make me tongue-tied speaking of your fame.
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By Heaven, I love thee better than myself.
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What wouldst thou do, old man? Think'st thou that duty shall have dread to speak When power to flattery bows?
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When a father gives to his son, both laugh; when a son gives to his father, both cry.
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A light heart lives long.
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Ambition, the soldier's virtue.
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Still it cried ‘Sleep no more!’ to all the house: ‘Glamis hath murder’d sleep, and therefore Cawdor shall sleep no more,—Macbeth shall sleep no more!
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He is as full of valor as of kindness. Princely in both.