William Shakespeare Quotes

I do not hate a proud man, as I do hate the engendering of toads.

So loving to my mother, That he might not beteem the winds of heaven, Visit her face' too roughly.

Th abuse of greatness is when it disjoins remorse from power.

Canst thou not minister to a mind diseased, Pluck from the memory a rooted sorrow, Raze out the written troubles of the brain

Weariness can snore upon the flint when resting sloth finds the down pillow hard.

Can one desire too much of a good thing?

Unquiet meals make ill digestions.

If it will feed nothing else, it will feed my revenge.

Heaven give you many, many merry days.

Flout 'em, and scout 'em; and scout 'em, and flout 'em; / Thought is free.

'Tis better to bear the ills we have than fly to others that we know not of.

It is as easy to count atomies as to resolve the propositions of a lover.

Thou art thy mother's glass, and she in thee Calls back the lovely April of her prime...

To you your father should be as a god; One that composed your beauties, yea, and one To whom you are but as a form in wax, By him imprinted, and within his power To leave the figure or disfigure it.

'Tis best to weigh the enemy more mighty than he seems.

But yet I'll make assurance double sure, and take a bond of fate: thou shalt not live.

Hot blood begets hot thoughts, And hot thoughts beget Hot deeds, And hot deeds is love.

For what is wedlock forced but a hell, An age of discord and continual strife? Whereas the contrary bringeth bliss, And is a pattern of celestial peace.

O! Let me not be mad, not mad, sweet heaven; keep me in temper; I would not be mad!

The weariest and most loathed worldly life, that age, ache, penury and imprisonment can lay on nature is a paradise, to what we fear of death.

Your face is a book, where men may read strange matters.

Yet mark'd I where the bolt of Cupid fell: It fell upon a little western flower, Before milk-white, now purple with love's wound, And maidens call it love-in-idleness.

Fie, fie upon her! There's language in her eye, her cheek, her lip, Nay, her foot speaks; her wanton spirits look out At every joint and motive of her body.

O heaven! were man, But constant, he were perfect.

Conceit in weakest bodies works the strongest.

How long a time lies in one little word?

And yet,to say the truth, reason and love keep little company together nowadays.

Small things make base men proud.

The head is not more native to the heart.

I shall despair. There is no creature loves me; And if I die no soul will pity me: And wherefore should they, since that I myself Find in myself no pity to myself?

Men that hazard all Do it in hope of fair advantages: A golden mind stoops not to shows of dross.

I had rather be a toad, and live upon the vapor of a dungeon than keep a corner in the thing I love for others uses.

When beggars die, there are no comets seen; the heavens themselves blaze forth the death of princes.

Home-keeping youth have ever homely wits.

Love like a shadow flies when substance love pursues Pursuing that that flies, and flying what pursues.

Men at some time are masters of their fates. The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars, but in ourselves, that we are underlings.

Well, whiles I am a beggar, I will rail, And say there is no sin but to be rich; And being rich, my virtue then shall be To say there is no vice but beggary

Sorrow breaks seasons and reposing hours, Makes the night morning, and the noontide night.

One whom the music of his own vain tongue doth ravish like enchanting harmony.

My prophecy is but half his journey yet, For yonder walls, that pertly front your town, Yon towers, whose wanton tops do buss the clouds, Must kiss their own feet.

Thou canst not speak of what thou dost not feel.

A heavy heart bears not a nimble tongue.

Here is a rural fellow that will not be denied your Highness' presence: he brings you figs.

I am but mad north-north-west. When the wind is southerly, I know a hawk from a handsaw.

I am very proud, revengeful, ambitious, with more offences at my beck than I have thoughts to put them in, imagination to give them shape, or time to act them in.

The rose looks fair, but fairer we it deem For that sweet odour which doth in it live.

Night's candles have burned out, and jocund day stands tiptoe on the misty mountaintops." Hope tinged with melancholy - like life.

Is not birth, beauty, good shape, discourse, Manhood, learning, gentleness, virtue, youth, liberality, and such like, the spice and salt that season a man

Great men may jest with saints; 'tis wit in them; But, in the less foul profanation.

The will is deaf and hears no heedful friends.