My liege, and madam, to expostulate
What majesty should be, what duty is,
Why day is day, night is night, and time is time.
Doth this become your place, your time, and business?
But I-that am not shap'd for sportive tricks,
Nor made to court an amorous looking-glass-
I-that am rudely stamp'd, and want love's majesty
To strut before a wanton ambling nymph-
I-that am curtail'd of this fair proportion,
Cheated of feature by dissembling nature,
Deform'd, unfinish'd, sent before my time
Into this breathing world scarce half made up,
And that so lamely and unfashionable
That dogs bark at me as I halt by them-
Why, I, in this weak piping time of peace,
Have no delight to pass away the time,
Unless to spy my shadow in the sun
And descant on mine own deformity.
Not that I think you did not love your father;
But that I know love is begun by time,
And that I see, in passages of proof,
Time qualifies the spark and fire of it.
Defer no time, delays have dangerous ends.
Experience is by industry achieved, and perfected by the swift course of time
But whate'er you are That in this desert inaccessible, Under the shade of melancholy boughs, Lose and neglect the creeping hours of time If you have ever looked on better days, If ever been where bells knoll'd to church, If ever sat at any good man's feast, If ever from your eyelids wiped a tear, And know what 'tis to pity and be pitied, Let gentleness my strong enforcement be....
Let's take the instant by the forward top for we are old, and on our quickest decrees, the inaudible and noiseless foot of time steals ere we can effect them
Cock-crow at Christmas Some say that ever 'gainst that season comes Wherein our Saviour's birth is celebrated, The bird of dawning singeth all night long And then, they say, no spirit can walk abroad The nights are wholesome then no planets strike, No fairy takes, nor witch hath power to charm, So hallow'd and so gracious is the time.
Patience, good lady; wizards know their times:
Deep night, dark night, the silent of the night,
The time of night when Troy was set on fire;
The time when screech-owls cry and ban-dogs howl,
And spirits walk and ghosts break up their graves-
That time best fits the work we have in hand.
Like to the time o' the year between the extremesOf hot and cold, he was not sad nor merry.
More William Shakespeare Quotations (Based on Topics)
Love - Man - Mind - Kings & Queens - World - Time - Life - God - Friendship - Death & Dying - Belief & Faith - Heaven - War & Peace - Fairness - Fool - Speaking - Night - Fear - Soul - View All William Shakespeare Quotations
More William Shakespeare Quotations (By Book Titles)
- A Midsummer Night's Dream
- As You Like It
- Julius Caesar
- King Lear
- Much Ado About Nothing
- The Merchant of Venice
- The Taming of the Shrew
- Twelfth Night
William Shakespeare - Tennessee Williams - Oscar Wilde - George Bernard Shaw - Richard Steele - Philippe Quinault - Henry Taylor - Hannah Cowley - George S. Kaufman - George Colman