William Shakespeare Quotes

Ay, is it not a language I speak?

Thou knowest, winter tames man, woman, and beast.

To die: - to sleep: No more; and, by a sleep to say we end The heart-ache and the thousand natural shocks That flesh is heir to, 'tis a consummation Devoutly to be wished.

There's no better sign of a brave mind than a hard hand.

Fare thee well, king: sith thus thou wilt appear, Freedom lives hence, and banishment is here.

For man is a giddy thing, and this is my conclusion.

Rumour is a pipe Blown by surmises, jealousies, conjectures And of so easy and so plain a stop That the blunt monster with uncounted heads, The still-discordant wavering multitude, Can play upon it.

The poet's eye, in a fine frenzy rolling, doth glance from heaven to Earth, from Earth to heaven; and as imagination bodies forth the forms of things unknown, the poet's pen turns them to shape, and gives to airy nothing a local habitation and a name; such tricks hath strong imagination.

She is a woman, therefore to be won.

The blood of youth burns not with such excess as gravity's revolt to wantonness.

I am misanthropos, and hate mankind, For thy part, I do wish thou wert a dog, That I might love thee something.

Miracles are ceased; and therefore we must needs admit the means, how things are perfected.

He that is thy friend indeed, he will help you in your need.

Nothing can come of nothing.

Tis ever common That men are merriest when they are from home.

If I for my opinion bleed, opinion shall be surgeon to my hurt, and keep me on the side where still I am.

A man can die but once.

There's no more faith in thee than in a stewed prune.

There lives within the very flame of love A kind of wick or snuff that will abate it.

This rudeness is a sauce to his good wit, Which gives men stomach to digest his words With better appetite.

All days are nights to see till I see thee, And nights bright days when dreams do show thee me.

Things are often spoke and seldom meant.

Be cheerful; wipe thine eyes: Some falls are means the happier to arise

He is deformed, crooked, old and sere, Ill-faced, worse bodied, shapeless everywhere; Vicious, ungentle, foolish, blunt, unkind; Stigmatical in making, worse in mind.

Give me that man that is not passion's slave, and I will wear him in my heart's core, in my heart of heart, as I do thee.

When workmen strive to do better than well, they do confound their skill in covetousness.

There's rosemary, that's for remembrance; pray you, love, remember: and there is pansies, that's for thoughts. There's fennel for you, and columbines: — there 's rue for you; and here's some for me: — we may call it, herb of grace o'Sundays: — you may wear your rue with a difference. — There's a daisy: — I would give you some violets; but they withered all, when my father died: — They say, he made a good end.

I see that the fashion wears out more apparel than the man.

Fairest Cordelia, that art most rich, being poor; Most choice, forsaken; and most loved, despised! Thee and thy virtues here I seize upon: Be it lawful I take up what's cast away. Gods, gods! 'tis strange that from their cold'st neglect My love should kindle to inflamed respect. Thy dowerless daughter, king, thrown to my chance, Is queen of us, of ours, and our fair France: Not all the dukes of waterish Burgundy Can buy this unprized precious maid of me. Bid them farewell, Cordelia, though unkind: Thou losest here, a better where to find.

Let still woman take An elder than herself: so wears she to him, So sways she level in her husband's heart, For, boy, however we do praise ourselves, Our fancies are more giddy and unfirm, More longing, wavering, sooner to be lost and warn, Than women's are.

God shall be my hope, my stay, my guide and lantern to my feet.

So long as men can breathe, or eyes can see, So long lives this, and this gives life to thee.

What a pretty thing man is when he goes in his doublet and hose and leaves off his wit!

The love of heaven makes one heavenly.

I have lov'd her ever since I saw her; and still I see her beautiful

Nature's tears are reason's merriment.

You have but mistook me all the while... I live by bread like you, taste grief, feel want, need friends. Conditioned thus how can you call me king?

And all my mother came into mine eyes And gave me up to tears.

Sweet are the uses of adversity which, like the toad, ugly and venomous, wears yet a precious jewel in his head.

Thou ominous and fearful owl of death.

One fire burns out another's burning, One pain is lessen'd by another's anguish.

O, it is excellent To have a giant's strength; but it is tyrannous To use it like a giant.

The instruments of darkness tell us truths.

What, all so soon asleep! I wish mine eyes Would, with themselves, shut up my thoughts.

A lover goes toward his beloved as enthusiastically as a schoolboy leaving his books, but when he leaves his girlfriend, he feels as miserable as the schoolboy on his way to school. (Act 2, scene 2)

I am a Jew: Hath not a Jew eyes? hath not a Jew hands, organs, dimensions, senses, affections, passions? fed with die same food, hurt with the same weapons, subject to the same diseases, healed by the same means, warmed and cooled by the same winter and summer, as a Christian is?

The tongues of dying men enforce attention like deep harmony.

Dream in light years, challenge miles, walk step by step