William Shakespeare Quotes

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

Macbeth:If we should fail?Lady Macbeth:We fail?But screw your courage to the sticking place, And we'll not fail.

This is the very ecstasy of love, Whose violent property fordoes itselfAnd leads the will to desperate undertakingsAs oft as any passion under heavenThat does afflict our natures.

Silence is the herald of joy

O God, that I were a man! I would eat his heart in the marketplace.

Have not we affections and desires for sport, and frailty, as men have?

Then I defy you, stars!

I do believe—that all the world's a star. Beyond that heav'nly light I shall fly far!" Luke (ACT I, Scene 7)

Then the liars and swearers are fools, for there are liars and swearers enough to beat the honest men and hang up them.

O that a man might knowThe end of this day's business ere it come!But it sufficeth that the day will endAnd then the end is known.

What we are is not all that we may become.

Say a day without the ever.

Men of few words are the best men."(3.2.41)

Suit the action to the word, theWord to the action.

...speak to me as to thy thinkingAs thou dost ruminate, and give thy worst of thoughtsThe worst of words...

Sigh no more, ladies, sigh no more, Men were deceivers ever, -One foot in sea and one on shore, To one thing constant never.

Though with their high wrongs I am struck to th' quick, Yet with my nobler reason 'gainst my furyDo I take part.

To move wild laughter in the throat of death? It cannot be, it is impossible: Mirth cannot move a soul in agony.

Parting is such sweet sorrow that I shall say goodnight till it be morrow.

My particular grief Is of so flood-gate and o'erbearing nature That it engluts and swallows other sorrows, And it is still itself.

Howl, howl, howl, howl! O, you are men of stones!

Is there no pity sitting in the clouds that sees into the bottom of my grief?

The grief that does not speak whispers the o'erfraught heart and bids it break.

Let us not burthen our remembrance withA heaviness that's gone.

I have a soul of leadSo stakes me to the ground I cannot move.

Things at the worst will cease, or else climb upwardTo what they were before.

But I am bound upon a wheel of fire, that mine own tears do scald like moulten lead.

Heigh-ho! sing, heigh-ho! unto the green holly:Most friendship is feigning, most loving mere folly:Then, heigh-ho, the holly!This life is most jolly.

Small herbs have grace, great weeds to grow apace.

O, she's warm!If this be magic, let it be an artLawful as eating.

And now about the cauldron singLike elves and fairies in a ring, Enchanting all that you put in.

If this be magic, let it be an art lawful as eating.

And Sir, it is no little thing to make mine eyes to sweat compassion.

Travellers ne'er did lie, Though fools at home condemn 'em.-Antonio

How now, spirit, whither wander you?

I am not gamesome: I do lack some partof that quick spirit that is in Antony.

What's in a name?

What's past is prologue.

What's done, is done

... one fire burns out another’s burning.One pain is lessened by another’s anguish. -Romeo & Juliet

Alas, my lord, your wisdom is consumed in confidence.

Oh, that this too, too sullied flesh would melt, Thaw, and resolve itself into a dew, Or that the Everlasting had not fixed. His canon 'gainst self-slaughter!

Mum, mum, He that keeps nor crust nor crumb, Weary of all, shall want some.

Thou art a votary to fond desire

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

Self-love, my liege, is not so vile a sin as self-neglecting.

Each new mornNew widows howl, new orphans cry, new sorrowsStrike heaven on the face, that it resoundsAs if it felt with Scotland, and yelled outLike syllable of dolor.

Angels are bright still, though the brightest fell.Though all things foul would wear the brows of grace, Yet Grace must still look so.

If it be now, ’tis not to come. If it be not to come, it will be now. If it be not now, yet it will come—the readiness is all.

There’s a divinity that shapes our ends, Rough-hew them how we will