William Shakespeare Quotes

Live how we can, yet die we must.

That if you be honest and fair, your honesty should admit no discourse to your beauty.

O wretched state! o bosom black as death!

Death-counterfeiting sleep.

O, she misused me past the endurance of a block.

The gallantry of his grief did put me into a towering passion.

To saucy doubts and fears.

Evermore thanks, the exchequer of the poor

Then to Silvia let us sing that Silvia is excelling. She excels each mortal thing upon the dull earth dwelling.

My purpose is, indeed, a horse of that color.

Hot and hasty, like a Scotch jig.

Lady, you know no rules of charity, Which renders good for bad, blessings for curses.

I have touch'd the highest point of all my greatness, And from that full meridian of my glory I haste now to my setting.

. . . nothing in his life Became him like the leaving it; he died As one that had been studied in his death To throw away the dearest thing he owed, As 'twere a careless trifle.

Superfluity comes sooner by white hairs, but competency lives longer.

Thriftless ambition, that wilt ravin up Thine own life's means!

To be direct and honest is not safe.

Why, there's a wench! Come on, and kiss me, Kate.

How wayward is this foolish love that, like a testy babe, will scratch the nurse and presently, all humble, kiss the rod.

There is no terror, Cassius, in your threats, For I am armed so strong in honesty That they pass by me as the idle wind

Farewell! a long farewell to all my greatness!

Well, I will find you twenty lascivious turtles ere one chaste man.

Put forth thy hand, reach at the glorious gold.

He that wants money, means, and content is without three good friends.

I am not mad; I would to heaven I were! For then, 'tis like I should forget myself; O, if I could, what grief should I forget!

Such men as he be never at heart's ease Whiles they behold a greater than themselves, And therefore are they very dangerous.

It is the bright day that brings forth the adder, and that craves wary walking.

These earthly godfathers of Heaven's lights, that give a name to every fixed star, have no more profit of their shining nights than those that walk and know not what they are.

One pain is lessened by another's anguish.

Why, all delights are vain; but that most vain, Which, with pain purchas'd, doth inherit pain.

Death, not Romeo, take my maidenhead!

Then love-devouring Death do what he dare.

I have very poor and unhappy brains for drinking.

All things that are, are with more spirit chased than enjoyed.

We make guilty of our disasters the sun, the moon, and the stars; as if we were villians by compulsion.

My stronger guilt defeats my strong intent.

Mine eyes Were not in fault, for she was beautiful; Mine ears, that heard her flattery; nor my heart, That thought her like her seeming. It had been vicious To have mistrusted her.

Nay, do not think I flatter. For what advancement may I hope from thee, That no revenue hast but thy good spirits To feed and clothe thee? Why should the poor be flattered?

By God, I cannot flatter, I do defy The tongues of soothers! but a braver place In my heart's love hath no man than yourself. Nay, task me to my word; approve me, lord.

Take no repulse, whatever she doth say; For 'get you gone,' she doth not mean 'away.' Flatter and praise, commend, extol their graces; Though ne'er so black, say they have angels' faces

And oftentimes excusing of a fault Doth make the fault the worse by the excuse, As patches set upon a little breach, Discredit more in hiding of the fault Than did the fault before it was so patch'd.

Zounds! sir, you are one of those that will not serve God if the devil bid you.

Moderate lamentation is the right of the dead, excessive grief the enemy to the living.

One good deed dying tongueless Slaughters a thousand waiting upon that. Our praises are our wages.

Costly thy habit [dress] as thy purse can buy; But not expressed in fancy - rich, not gaudy. For the apparel oft proclaims the man.

I fill up a place, which may be better... when I have made it empty.

We must love men, ere to us they will seem worthy of our love.

Villains, vipers, damn'd without redemption; Dogs, easily won to fawn on any man; Snakes in my heart-blood warm'd, that sing my heart; Three Judases, each one thrice worse than Judas.

Look, what a horse should have he did not lack, Save a proud rider on his back.

Beauty's a doubtful good, a glass, a flower, Lost, faded, broken, dead within an hour; And beauty, blemish'd once, for ever's lost, In spite of physic, painting, pain, and cost.