William Shakespeare Quotes

Who seeks, and will not take, when once 'tis offer'd, Shall never find it more.

The even mead, that erst brought sweetly forth The freckled cowslip, burnet, and green clover, Wanting the scythe, all uncorrected, rank, Conceives by idleness, and nothing teems But hateful docks, rough thistles, kecksies, burrs, Losing both beauty and utility.

There's little of the melancholy element in her, my lord: she is never sad but when she sleeps; and not ever sad then; for I have heard my daughter say, she hath often dreamt of unhappiness, and waked herself with laughing.

Honour travels in a strait so narrow Where one but goes abreast.

Do you bite your thumb at us, sir?

Care keeps his watch in every old man’s eye, And where care lodges, sleep will never lie.

Thanks, sir; all the rest is mute.

O that men's ears should be To counsel deaf but not to flattery!

When he is best, he is a little worse than a man; and when he is worst, he is little better than a beast.

Too much of water hast thou, poor Ophelia, And therefore I forbid my tears.

Your praises will become your wages.

By Jove, I am not covetous for gold, Nor care I who doth feed upon my cost; It yearns me not if me my garments wear; Such outward things dwell not in my desires: But if it be a sin to covet honor, I am the most offending soul alive.

Help, master, help! here's a fish hangs in the net, like a poor man's right in the law; 'twill hardly come out.

He is not great who is not greatly good.

Thrift, thrift, Horatio! The funeral bak'd meats did coldly furnish forth the marriage tables.

What power is it which mounts my love so high, that makes me see, and cannot feed mine eye

Love goes toward love.

Glendower: I can call the spirits from the vasty deep. Hotspur: Why, so can I, or so can any man; But will they come, when you do call for them?

I thought my heart had been wounded with the claws of a lion.

Fondling,' she saith, 'since I have hemm'd thee here Within the circuit of this ivory pale, I'll be a park, and thou shalt be my deer; Feed where thou wilt, on mountain or in dale: Graze on my lips, and if those hills be dry, Stray lower, where the pleasant fountains lie.

Be not afeard; the isle is full of noises, Sounds, and sweet airs, that give delight and hurt not. Sometimes a thousand twangling instruments Will hum about mine ears; and sometime voices, That, if I then had waked after long sleep, Will make me sleep again: and then, in dreaming, The clouds methought would open, and show riches Ready to drop upon me; that, when I waked, I cried to dream again.

Tax not so bad a voice to slander music any more than once.

He is as full of valor as of kindness. Princely in both.

Poor Desdemona! I am glad thy father's dead.Thy match was mortal to him, and pure griefShore his old thread in twain.

Beggar that I am, I am even poor in thanks, but I thank you; and sure, dear friends, my thanks are too dear a halfpenny.

How sweet the moonlight sleeps upon this bank Here we will sit, and let the sounds of music Creep in our ears; soft stillness, and the night Become the touches of sweet harmony

The color of the king doth come and go,Between his purpose and his conscience,Like heralds 'twixt two dreadful battles set:His passion is so ripe, it needs must break.

Time is the nurse and breeder of all good.

Methinks I am a prophet new inspired And thus, expiring, do foretell of him: His rash fierce blaze of riot cannot last, For violent fires soon burn out themselves; Small show'rs last long, but sudden storms are short; He tires betimes that spurs too fast betimes; With eager feeding doth choke the feeder; Light vanity, insatiate cormorant, Consuming means, soon preys upon itself.

As true as steel, as plantage to the moon,As sun to day, at turtle to her mate,As iron to adamant, as earth to centre.

Although the last, not least.

Many a man's tongue shakes out his master's undoing.

Marriage is a matter of more worthThan to be dealt in by attorneyship.

It is war's prize to take all vantages;And ten to one is no impeach of valor.

A substitute shines brightly as a kingUntil a king be by, and then his stateEmpties itself, as dot an inland brookInto the main of waters.

My falcon now is sharp and passing empty, and till she stoop she must not be full-gorged, for then she never looks upon her lure.

Lovers and madmen have such seething brains Such shaping fantasies, that apprehend More than cool reason ever comprehends.

It is the disease of not listening......that I am troubled with.

Men prize the thing ungained more than it is.

What is your substance, whereof are you made, That millions of strange shadows on you tend? Since everyone hath every one, one shade, And you, but one, can every shadow lend. Describe Adonis, and the counterfeit Is poorly imitated after you. On Helen’s cheek all art of beauty set, And you in Grecian tires are painted new. Speak of the spring and foison of the year; The one doth shadow of your beauty show, The other as your bounty doth appear, And you in every blessèd shape we know. In all external grace you have some part, But you like none, none you, for constant heart.

Crabbed age and youth cannot live together; Youth is full of pleasure, age is full of care; Youth like summer morn, age like winter weather; Youth like summer brave, age like winter bare. Youth is full sport, age's breath is short; Youth is nimble, age is lame; Youth is hot and bold, age is weak and cold; Youth is wild, age is tame. Age, I do abhor thee; youth, I do adore thee.

To unpathed waters, undreamed shores.

Yet this my comfort: when your words are done, My woes end likewise with the evening sun.

Now old desire doth in his deathbed lie,And young affection gapes to be his heir;That fair for which love groan'd for and would die,With tender Juliet match'd, is now not fair.

I have unclasp'd to thee the book even of my secret soul.

A woman's thought runs before her actions.

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

Hardness ever of hardness is mother.

Then come kiss me, sweet and twenty.

I have heard of your paintings too, well enough; God has given you one face, and you make yourselves another.

Why, what's the matter, That you have such a February face, So full of frost, of storm and cloudiness?

Who is Silvia What is she, That all our swains commend her Holy, fair, and wise is she.

For a quart of ale is a dish for a king.

If little faults proceeding on distemperShall not be winked at, how shall we stretch our eyeWhen capital crimes, chewed, swallowed, and digested,Appear before us?

I almost die for food, and let me have it!

Speak the speech, I pray you, as I pronounced it to you-trippingly on the tongue; but if you mouth it, as many of your players do, I had as lief the town-crier spoke my lines. Nor do not saw the air too much with your hand, thus, but use all gently; for in the very torrent, tempest, and as I may say, the whirlwind of your passion, you must acquire and beget a temperance that may give it smoothness.

Bosom upon my counsel; You'll find it wholesome.

Love is blind, it stops lovers seeing the silly things they do.

You have her father's love, Demetrius; Let me have Hermia's: do you marry him!

If to do were as easy as to know what were good to do, chapels had been churches, and poor men's cottage princes' palaces.