William Shakespeare Quotes on Love (547 Quotes)


    I presume
    That, as my hand has open'd bounty to you,
    My heart dropp'd love, my pow'r rain'd honour, more
    On you than any, so your hand and heart,
    Your brain, and every function of your power,
    Should, notwithstanding that your bond of duty,
    As 'twere in love's particular, be more
    To me, your friend, than any.

    I have lived long enough. My way of life is to fall into the sere, the yellow leaf, and that which should accompany old age, as honor, love, obedience, troops of friends I must not look to have.

    Read over Julia's heart, thy first best love,
    For whose dear sake thou didst then rend thy faith
    Into a thousand oaths; and all those oaths
    Descended into perjury, to love me.


    I see you are obsequious in your love, and I
    profess requital to a hair's breadth; not only, Mistress Ford, in
    the simple office of love, but in all the accoutrement,
    complement, and ceremony of it.


    Our love was new, and then but in the spring
    When I was wont to greet it with my lays,
    As Philomel in summer's front doth sing,
    And stops her pipe in growth of riper days-
    Not that the summer is less pleasant now
    Than when her mournful hymns did hush the night,
    But that wild music burthens every bough,
    And sweets grown common lose their dear delight.

    His love, perceiving how he is enrag'd,
    Grew kinder, and his fury was assuag'd.

    This royal hand and mine are newly knit,
    And the conjunction of our inward souls
    Married in league, coupled and link'd together
    With all religious strength of sacred vows;
    The latest breath that gave the sound of words
    Was deep-sworn faith, peace, amity, true love,
    Between our kingdoms and our royal selves;
    And even before this truce, but new before,
    No longer than we well could wash our hands,
    To clap this royal bargain up of peace,
    Heaven knows, they were besmear'd and overstain'd
    With slaughter's pencil, where revenge did paint
    The fearful difference of incensed kings.


    It is to be all made of fantasy,
    All made of passion, and all made of wishes;
    All adoration, duty, and observance,
    All humbleness, all patience, and impatience,
    All purity, all trial, all obedience;
    And so am I for Phebe.


    This said, she hasteth to a myrtle grove,
    Musing the morning is so much o'erworn,
    And yet she hears no tidings of her love:
    She hearkens for his hounds and for his horn:
    Anon she hears them chant it lustily,
    And all in haste she coasteth to the cry.




    There be some women, Silvius, had they mark'd him
    In parcels as I did, would have gone near
    To fall in love with him; but, for my part,
    I love him not, nor hate him not; and yet
    I have more cause to hate him than to love him;
    For what had he to do to chide at me?

    Doubt thou the stars are fire;
    Doubt that the sun doth move;
    Doubt truth to be a liar;
    But never doubt I love.


    This bud of love, by summer's ripening breath, May prove a beauteous flower when next we meet. Good night, good night as sweet repose and rest Come to thy heart as that within my breast.


    Proud can I never be of what I hate,
    But thankful even for hate that is meant love.

    Love is my sin, and thy dear virtue hate, Hate of my sin, grounded on sinful loving




    But your discretions better can persuade
    Than I am able to instruct or teach;
    And, therefore, as we hither came in peace,
    So let us still continue peace and love.


    O, lest your true love may seem false in this,
    That you for love speak well of me untrue,
    My name be buried where my body is,
    And live no more to shame nor me nor you.

    When vice makes mercy, mercy's so extended
    That for the fault's love is th' offender friended.


    I never did repent for doing good,
    Nor shall not now; for in companions
    That do converse and waste the time together,
    Whose souls do bear an equal yoke of love,
    There must be needs a like proportion
    Of lineaments, of manners, and of spirit,
    Which makes me think that this Antonio,
    Being the bosom lover of my lord,
    Must needs be like my lord.

    No; that same wicked bastard of Venus, that was begot of
    thought, conceiv'd of spleen, and born of madness; that blind
    rascally boy, that abuses every one's eyes, because his own are
    out- let him be judge how deep I am in love.

    If any man challenge this, he
    is a friend to Alencon and an enemy to our person; if thou
    encounter any such, apprehend him, an thou dost me love.



    O, let my books be then the eloquence
    And dumb presagers of my speaking breast,
    Who plead for love, and look for recompense
    More than that tongue that more hath more expressed.


    This night I hold an old accustom'd feast,
    Whereto I have invited many a guest,
    Such as I love; and you among the store,
    One more, most welcome, makes my number more.

    Then if he thrive and I be cast away,
    The worst was this: my love was my decay.

    This is the very ecstasy of love,
    Whose violent property fordoes itself
    And leads the will to desperate undertakings
    As oft as any passion under heaven
    That does afflict our natures.

    O love, be moderate, allay thy ecstasy,
    In measure rain thy joy, scant this excess!

    Why, love forswore me in my mother's womb;
    And, for I should not deal in her soft laws,
    She did corrupt frail nature with some bribe
    To shrink mine arm up like a wither'd shrub
    To make an envious mountain on my back,
    Where sits deformity to mock my body;
    To shape my legs of an unequal size;
    To disproportion me in every part,
    Like to a chaos, or an unlick'd bear-whelp
    That carries no impression like the dam.

    My way of life
    Is fall'n into the sear, the yellow leaf,
    And that which should accompany old age,
    As honor, love, obedience, troops of friends,
    I must not look to have; but in their stead,
    Curses, not loud but deep, mouth-honor, breath,
    Which the poor heart would fain deny and dare not.


    And in this state she 'gallops night by night
    Through lovers' brains, and then they dream of love;
    O'er courtiers' knees, that dream on cursies straight;
    O'er lawyers' fingers, who straight dream on fees;
    O'er ladies' lips, who straight on kisses dream,
    Which oft the angry Mab with blisters plagues,
    Because their breaths with sweetmeats tainted are.


    O, none, unless this miracle have might,
    That in black ink my love may still shine bright.

    The youngest son of Priam, a true knight;
    Not yet mature, yet matchless; firm of word;
    Speaking in deeds and deedless in his tongue;
    Not soon provok'd, nor being provok'd soon calm'd;
    His heart and hand both open and both free;
    For what he has he gives, what thinks he shows,
    Yet gives he not till judgment guide his bounty,
    Nor dignifies an impair thought with breath;
    Manly as Hector, but more dangerous;
    For Hector in his blaze of wrath subscribes
    To tender objects, but he in heat of action
    Is more vindicative than jealous love.


    You should account me the more virtuous, that I have
    not been common in my love.


    More William Shakespeare Quotations (Based on Topics)


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    More William Shakespeare Quotations (By Book Titles)


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