Appearance Quotes

“What, no more ceremony? See, my women! Against the blown rose may they stop their nose That kneel'd unto the buds.”

“The soul of this man is his clothes.”

“Fair ladies, masked, are roses in their bud;Dismasked, the damask sweet commixture shown,Are angels vailing clouds, or roses blown.”

“'Tis better to be vile than vile esteemed, When not to be, receives reproach of being, And the just pleasure lost, which is so deemed, Not by our feeling, but by others' seeing.”

“All hoods make not monks.”

“Shine out fair sun, till I have bought a glass, That I may see my shadow as I pass.”

“The tartness of his face sours ripe grapes.”

“You undergo too strict a paradox, Striving to make an ugly deed look fair.”

“Thou speak'st like him's untutored to repeat: Who makes the fairest show means most deceit.”

“Look on beauty, and you shall see 'tis purchased by the weight; which therein works a miracle in Nature, making them lightest that wear most of it: so are those crisped snaky golden locks which make such wanton gambols with the wind upon supposed fairness, often known to be the dowry of a second head, the skull that bred them in the sepulchre.”

“Thus did I keep my person fresh and new,My presence, like a robe pontifical,Ne'er seen but wondered at, and so my state,Seldom but sumptuous, showed like a feast.”

“Thou art a very ragged Wart.”

“O heresy in fair, fit for these days,A giving hand, though foul, shall have fair praise.”

“Seems," madam? Nay, it is; I know not "seems." 'Tis not alone my inky cloak, good mother, Nor customary suits of solemn black, Nor windy suspiration of forced breath, No, nor the fruitful river in the eye, Nor the dejected 'havior of the visage, Together with all forms, moods, shapes of grief, That can denote me truly: these indeed seem, For they are actions that a man might play: But I have that within which passeth show; These but the trappings and the suits of woe.”

“But what's so blessed-fair that fears no blot? Thou mayst be false, and yet I know it not.”

“This is some fellow,Who having been prais'd for bluntness, doth affectA saucy roughness and constrains the garbQuite from his nature: he can't flatter, he!An honest mind and plain,--he must speak truth!And they will take it so; if not he's plain.These kind of knaves I know, which in this plainnessHarbor more craft, and far corrupter ends,Than twenty silly, ducking observants,That stretch their duty nicely.”

“I must to the barber's, monsieur, for methinks I am marvellous hairy about the face.”

“Why should you think that I should woo in scorn? Scorn and derision never come in tears: Look, when I vow, I weep; and vows so born, In their nativity all truth appears. How can these things in me seem scorn to you, Bearing the badge of faith, to prove them true?”

“O Ceremony, show me but thy worth? What is thy soul of adoration? Art thou aught else but place, degree, and form, Creating awe and fear in other men?”

“We will all laugh at gilded butterflies.”

“Look like the innocent flower, But be the serpent under it.”

“Why are our bodies soft, and weak, and smooth But that our soft conditions and our hearts Should well agree with our external parts?”

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

“she shall scant show well that now shows best.”

“So may the outward shows be least themselves; The world is still deceived with ornament.”