William Shakespeare Quotes on Fear (60 Quotes)




    What potions have I drunk of Siren tears,
    Distilled from limbecks foul as hell within,
    Applying fears to hopes, and hopes to fears,
    Still losing when I saw my self to win!




    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.


    But if you would consider the true cause
    Why all these fires, why all these gliding ghosts,
    Why birds and beasts from quality and kind,
    Why old men, fools, and children calculate,
    Why all these things change from their ordinance,
    Their natures, and preformed faculties
    To monstrous quality, why, you shall find
    That heaven hath infused them with these spirits
    To make them instruments of fear and warning
    Unto some monstrous state.





    I, I, I myself
    sometimes, leaving the fear of God on the left hand, and hiding
    mine honour in my necessity, am fain to shuffle, to hedge,
    and to lurch; and yet you, rogue, will ensconce your rags,
    your cat-a-mountain looks, your red-lattice phrases, and
    your bold-beating oaths, under the shelter of your honour!



    Sometime he runs among a flock of sheep,
    To make the cunning hounds mistake their smell,
    And sometime where earth-delving conies keep,
    To stop the loud pursuers in their yell,
    And sometime sorteth with a herd of deer;
    Danger deviseth shifts; wit waits on fear:


    Good faith,
    I tremble still with fear; but if there be
    Yet left in heaven as small a drop of pity
    As a wren's eye, fear'd gods, a part of it!



    Thee have I not locked up in any chest,
    Save where thou art not-though I feel thou art-
    Within the gentle closure of my breast,
    From whence at pleasure thou mayst come and part;
    And even thence thou wilt be stol'n, I fear,
    For truth proves thievish for a prize so dear.

    ROSS You must have patience, madam. LADY MACDUFF He had none His flight was madness when our actions do not, Our fears do make us traitors.

    Whether it be through force of your report,
    My noble Lord of Suffolk, or for that
    My tender youth was never yet attaint
    With any passion of inflaming love,
    I cannot tell; but this I am assur'd,
    I feel such sharp dissension in my breast,
    Such fierce alarums both of hope and fear,
    As I am sick with working of my thoughts.



    To-morrow, good Sir Michael, is a day
    Wherein the fortune of ten thousand men
    Must bide the touch; for, sir, at Shrewsbury,
    As I am truly given to understand,
    The King with mighty and quick-raised power
    Meets with Lord Harry; and I fear, Sir Michael,
    What with the sickness of Northumberland,
    Whose power was in the first proportion,
    And what with Owen Glendower's absence thence,
    Who with them was a rated sinew too
    And comes not in, overrul'd by prophecies-
    I fear the power of Percy is too weak
    To wage an instant trial with the King.

    Presently the Duke
    Said 'twas the fear indeed and that he doubted
    'Twould prove the verity of certain words
    Spoke by a holy monk 'that oft' says he
    'Hath sent to me, wishing me to permit
    John de la Car, my chaplain, a choice hour
    To hear from him a matter of some moment;
    Whom after under the confession's seal
    He solemnly had sworn that what he spoke
    My chaplain to no creature living but
    To me should utter, with demure confidence
    This pausingly ensu'd: "Neither the King nor's heirs,
    Tell you the Duke, shall prosper; bid him strive
    To gain the love o' th' commonalty; the Duke
    Shall govern England.



    Piety and fear,
    Religion to the gods, peace, justice, truth,
    Domestic awe, night-rest, and neighbourhood,
    Instruction, manners, mysteries, and trades,
    Degrees, observances, customs and laws,
    Decline to your confounding contraries
    And let confusion live.

    We make trifles of terrors, ensconcing ourselves into seeming knowledge, when we should submit ourselves to an unknown fear.

    Fear no more the heat o the sun, nor the furious winter's rages. Thou thy worldly task hast done, home art gone and taken thy wages.



    Perhaps he loves you now,
    And now no soil nor cautel doth besmirch
    The virtue of his will; but you must fear,
    His greatness weigh'd, his will is not his own;
    For he himself is subject to his birth.


    Or in the night, imagining some fear, How easy is a bush supposed a bear.

    FIRST CITIZEN Come, come, we fear the worst all shall be well. THIRD CITIZEN When clouds appear, wise men put on their cloaks When great leaves fall, the winter is at hand When the sun sets, who doth not look for night Untimely storms make men expect a dearth. All my be well but if God sort it so. Tis more than we deserve, or I expect. SECOND CITIZEN Truly, the souls of men are full of dread Ye cannot reason almost with a man That looks not heavily and full of fear. THIRD CITIZEN Before the times of change, still is it so By a divine instinct mens minds distrust Ensuing dangers as, by proof, we see The waters swell before a boisterous storm.

    This dismal cry rings sadly in her ear,
    Through which it enters to surprise her heart;
    Who, overcome by doubt and bloodless fear,
    With cold-pale weakness numbs each feeling part:
    Like soldiers, when their captain once doth yield,
    They basely fly and dare not stay the field.

    Fie, fie, fond love, thou art so full of fear
    As one with treasure laden, hemm'd with thieves;
    Trifles, unwitnessed with eye or ear,
    Thy coward heart with false bethinking grieves.

    Therefore, when he sees reason of
    fears, as we do, his fears, out of doubt, be of the same relish
    as ours are; yet, in reason, no man should possess him with any
    appearance of fear, lest he, by showing it, should dishearten his
    army.


    Not mine own fears, nor the prophetic soul
    Of the wide world, dreaming on things to come
    Can yet the lease of my true love control,
    Supposed as forfeit to a confined doom.

    Now this follows,
    Which, as I take it, is a kind of puppy
    To th' old dam treason: Charles the Emperor,
    Under pretence to see the Queen his aunt-
    For 'twas indeed his colour, but he came
    To whisper Wolsey-here makes visitation-
    His fears were that the interview betwixt
    England and France might through their amity
    Breed him some prejudice; for from this league
    Peep'd harms that menac'd him-privily
    Deals with our Cardinal; and, as I trow-
    Which I do well, for I am sure the Emperor
    Paid ere he promis'd; whereby his suit was granted
    Ere it was ask'd-but when the way was made,
    And pav'd with gold, the Emperor thus desir'd,
    That he would please to alter the King's course,
    And break the foresaid peace.

    For, now he has crack'd the league
    Between us and the Emperor, the Queen's great nephew,
    He dives into the King's soul and there scatters
    Dangers, doubts, wringing of the conscience,
    Fears, and despairs-and all these for his marriage;
    And out of all these to restore the King,
    He counsels a divorce, a loss of her
    That like a jewel has hung twenty years
    About his neck, yet never lost her lustre;
    Of her that loves him with that excellence
    That angels love good men with; even of her
    That, when the greatest stroke of fortune falls,
    Will bless the King-and is not this course pious?







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