#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.”

“There's no art to find the mind's construction in the face.”

“I am not merry, but I do beguile the thing I am by seeming otherwise.”

“For youth no less becomesThe light and careless livery that it wears,Than settled age his sables, and his weedsImporting health and graveness.”

“False face must hide what the false heart doth know.”

“O, grief hath changed me since you saw me last, And careful hours with Time's deformed hand Have written strange defeatures in my face. But tell me yet, dost thou not know my voice?”

“Through tattered clothes great vices do appear; Robes and furred gowns hide all. Plate sin with gold and the strong lance of justice hurtless breaks. Arm it in rags, a pigmy's straw does pierce it.”

“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.”

“Coward dogs most spend their mouths when what they seem to threaten runs far before them.”

“O, what a goodly outside falsehood hath!”

“Through tattered clothes, small vices do appear. Robes and furred gowns hide all.”

“Were I the Moor I would not be Iago. In following him I follow but myself; Heaven is my judge, not I for love and duty, But seeming so for my peculiar end. For when my outward action doth demonstrate The native act and figure of my heart In compliment extern, ’tis not long after But I will wear my heart upon my sleeve For daws to peck at. I am not what I am”

“I have heard of your paintings too, well enough; God has given you one face, and you make yourselves another: you jig, you amble, and you lisp, and nick-name God's creatures, and make your wantonness your ignorance. Go to, I'll no more on't; it hath made me mad.”

“Or are you like the painting of a sorrow, a face without a heart?”

“There is no vice so simple but assumes some mark of virtue on his outward parts.”

“A goodly portly man, i' faith, and a corpulent; of a cheerful look, a pleasing eye, and a most noble carriage; and, as I think, his age some fifty, or, by'r Lady, inclining to threescore; and now I remember me, his name is Falstaff.”

“See where she comes apparelled like the spring.”

“The fool multitude, that choose by show, not learning more than the fond eye doth teach.”

“For I have sworn thee fair, and thought thee bright, who art as black as hell, as dark as night.”

“Scratching could not make it worse, an't were such a face as yours were.”

“All that glitters is not gold; Often have you heard that told: Many a man his life has sold But my outside to behold: Gilded tombs do worms enfold Had you been as wise as bold, Your in limbs, in judgment old, Your answer had not been in'scroll'd Fare you well: your suit is cold.' Cold, indeed, and labour lost: Then, farewell, heat and welcome, frost!”

“Do you set down your name in the scroll of youth, that are written down old with all the characters of age?”

“Ornament is but the guiled shore to a most dangerous sea.”

“Your date is better in your pie and your porridge than in your cheek.”

“I should think this a gull, but that the white-bearded fellow speaks it; knavery cannot, sure, hide himself in such reverence.”

“The empty vessel makes the loudest sound.”