William Shakespeare Quotes on Faces (30 Quotes)

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

Right joyous are we to behold your face,
Most worthy brother England; fairly met!

I' faith, sir, you shall never need to fear;
Iwis it is not halfway to her heart;
But if it were, doubt not her care should be
To comb your noddle with a three-legg'd stool,
And paint your face, and use you like a fool.

God has given you one face, and you make yourself another.

O jest unseen, inscrutable, invisible, As a nose on a man's face, or a weathercock on a steeple My master sues to her, and she hath taught her suitor, He being her pupil, to become her tutor. O excellent device was there ever heard a better, That my master, being scribe, to himself should write the letter.

Could I come near your beauty with my nails; I'd set my ten commandments in your face.

God hath given you one face, and you make yourselves another.

But, in faith, Kate, the elder I wax, the better I shall appear:
my comfort is, that old age, that in layer-up of beauty, can do
no more spoil upon my face; thou hast me, if thou hast me, at the
worst; and thou shalt wear me, if thou wear me, better and
better.

I hourly learn
A doctrine of obedience, and would gladly
Look him i' th' face.

Shall I, for love, speak treason to thy face?

Your face, my thane, is a book where menMay read strange matters.

You are not worth the dust which the rude wind Blows in your face.

Because I cannot flatter and look fair,
Smile in men's faces, smooth, deceive, and cog,
Duck with French nods and apish courtesy,
I must be held a rancorous enemy.

And truly not the morning sun of heaven
Better becomes the grey cheeks of the east,
Nor that full star that ushers in the even
Doth half that glory to the sober west
As those two mourning eyes become thy face.

The perdition of th' athversary hath been very great,
reasonable great; marry, for my part, I think the Duke hath lost
never a man, but one that is like to be executed for robbing a
church- one Bardolph, if your Majesty know the man; his face is
all bubukles, and whelks, and knobs, and flames o' fire; and his
lips blows at his nose, and it is like a coal of fire, sometimes
plue and sometimes red; but his nose is executed and his fire's
out.

And to be sure that is not false I swear,
A thousand groans but thinking on thy face,
One on another's neck do witness bear
Thy black is fairest in my judgment's place.

I told you, sir, they were red-hot with drinking so full of valor that they smote the air, for breathing in their faces, beat the ground for kissing of their feet.

So shall I live, supposing thou art true,
Like a deceivèd husband; so love's face
May still seem love to me, though altered new,
Thy looks with me, thy heart in other place.

Thou hast a grim appearance, and thy face; Bears a command in't though thy tackle's torn, Thou show'st a noble vessel. What's thy name.

Read o'er the volume of young Paris' face,
And find delight writ there with beauty's pen;
Examine every married lineament,
And see how one another lends content;
And what obscur'd in this fair volume lies
Find written in the margent of his eyes,
This precious book of love, this unbound lover,
To beautify him only lacks a cover.

Faith, none for me; except the north-east wind,
Which then blew bitterly against our faces,
Awak'd the sleeping rheum, and so by chance
Did grace our hollow parting with a tear.

Look in thy glass, and tell the face thou viewest
Now is the time that face should form another,
Whose fresh repair if now thou not renewest,
Thou dost beguile the world, unbless some mother.

Bid them wash their faces, And keep their teeth clean.

My comfort is, that old age, that ill layer-up of beauty, can do no more spoil upon my face.

If thou canst love a
fellow of this temper, Kate, whose face is not worth sunburning,
that never looks in his glass for love of anything he sees there,
let thine eye be thy cook.

Good my lord,
If I have any grace or power to move you,
His present reconciliation take;
For if he be not one that truly loves you,
That errs in ignorance and not in cunning,
I have no judgement in an honest face.

The whining schoolboy, with his satchel And shining morning face, creeping like snail Unwillingly to school.

Come, gentle night; come, loving, black-brow'd night;
Give me my Romeo; and, when he shall die,
Take him and cut him out in little stars,
And he will make the face of heaven so fine
That all the world will be in love with night
And pay no worship to the garish sun.

Or mine eyes seeing this, say this is not
To put fair truth upon so foul a face?

Though yet heaven knows it is but as a tomb
Which hides your life, and shows not half your parts:
If I could write the beauty of your eyes,
And in fresh numbers number all your graces,
The age to come would say, "This poet lies,
Such heavenly touches ne'er touched earthly faces.