William Shakespeare Quotes

Blessings of your heart, you brew good ale.

If I can catch him once upon the hip, I will feed fat the ancient grudge I bear him.

She's beautiful, and therefore to be wooed; She is a woman, therefore to be won.

A peevish self-willed harlotry it is. *She’s a stubborn little brat.*

I am bewitched with the rogue's company. If the rascal have not given me medicines to make me love him, I'll be hanged.

Stars hide your fires; let not light see my black and deep desires: The eyes wink at the hand; yet let that be which the eye fears, when it is done, to see

His life was gentle; and the elements So mixed in him, that Nature might stand up And say to all the world, THIS WAS A MAN!

Loathsome canker lives in sweetest bud.

I heard a bird so sing, Whose music, to my thinking, pleased the king.

Romans, countrymen, and lovers, hear me for my cause, and be silent, that you may hear.

Good hay, sweet hay, hath no fellow.

Forget, forgive; conclude, and be agreed.

Ask God for temp'rance. That's th' appliance only Which your disease requires.

A wicked conscience mouldeth goblins swift as frenzy thoughts.

This world to me is like a lasting storm,Whirring me from my friends.

Where every something, being blent together turns to a wild of nothing.

Death lies on her like an untimely frost.

Though yet of Hamlet our dear brother's death the memory be green.

Watch tonight, pray tomorrow. Gallants, lads, boys, hearts of gold, all the titles of good fellowship come to you!

So foul and fair a day I have not seen.

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

Love surfeits not, Lust like a glutton dies; Love is all truth, Lust full of forged lies

He is winding the watch of his wit; by and by it will strike.

Instinct is a great matter. I was now a coward on instinct.

Every why has a wherefore.

No, I will be the pattern of all patience; I will say nothing.

Like a red morn that ever yet betokened, Wreck to the seaman, tempest to the field, Sorrow to the shepherds, woe unto the birds, Gusts and foul flaws to herdmen and to herds.

Lord, Lord, how subject we old men are to this vice of lying!

Death where is thy sting? Love, where is thy glory?

Well, if Fortune be a woman, she's a good wench for this gear.

Yet who would have thought the old man to have had so much blood in him? - Lady Macbeth

Our remedies oft in ourselves do lie, Which we ascribe to Heaven.

The quality of mercy is not strained

I will speak daggers to her, but use none.

Now, good digestion wait on appetite, and health on both!

Out, you tallow-face! You baggage!

Sigh no more ladies, sigh no more, men were deceivers ever

You are an alchemist; make gold of that.

You know That I do fawn on men, and hug them hard, And after scandal them.

Covering discretion with a coat of folly.

I wish my horse had the speed of your tongue.

Murder most foul, as in the best it it; But this most foul, strange, and unnatural.

A light wife doth make a heavy husband.

Love for thy love , and hand for hand I give.

so full of shapes is fancy

Our praises are our wages.

The tartness of his face sours ripe grapes.

Like madness, is the glory of this life.

But to my mind, though I am native here, And to the manner born, it is a custom, More honored in the breach than the observance.

Thou know'st 'tis common; all that lives must die, Passing through nature to eternity.