William Shakespeare Quotes on Truth (37 Quotes)

I say no more than truth, so help me God!

I am yet
Unknown to woman, never was forsworn,
Scarcely have coveted what was mine own,
At no time broke my faith, would not betray
The devil to his fellow, and delight
No less in truth than life.

O while you live, tell truth, and shame the devil.

As there comes light from heaven and words from breath, As there is sense in truth and truth in virtue,

Truth hath a quiet breast.

And so of you, beauteous and lovely youth,
When that shall vade, by verse distills your truth.

Promise me life, and I'll confess the truth.

I rais'd him, and I pawn'd
Mine honour for his truth; who being so heighten'd,
He watered his new plants with dews of flattery,
Seducing so my friends; and to this end
He bow'd his nature, never known before
But to be rough, unswayable, and free.

O truant Muse, what shall be thy amends
For thy neglect of truth in beauty dyed?

Learn, good soul,
To think our former state a happy dream;
From which awak'd, the truth of what we are
Shows us but this: I am sworn brother, sweet,
To grim Necessity; and he and
Will keep a league till death.

Madam, by chance, but not by truth; what though?

Let me speak, sir,
For heaven now bids me; and the words I utter
Let none think flattery, for they'll find 'em truth.

Love comforteth like sunshine after rain, But lust's effect is tempest after sun Love's gentle spring doth always fresh remain, Lust's winter comes ere summer half be done Love surfeit's not, Lust like a glutton dies, Love is all truth, Lust full

In good truth, the poet makes a most excellent description
of it: Fortune is an excellent moral.

Let them speak, If they speak more or less
than truth, they are villains and the sons of darkness.

Ah, uncle Humphrey, in thy face I see
The map of honour, truth, and loyalty!

In truth, sir, and she is pretty, and honest, and
gentle; and one that is your friend, I can tell you that by
the way; I praise heaven for it.

Is not the truth the truth?

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.

Time doth transfix the flourish set on youth,
And delves the parallels in beauty's brow,
Feeds on the rarities of nature's truth,
And nothing stands but for his scythe to mow.

'Tis not the many oaths that make the truth But the plain single vow, that is vow'd true.

Faith, to say truth, brown and not brown.

Peace, plenty, love, truth, terror,
That were the servants to this chosen infant,
Shall then be his, and like a vine grow to him;
Wherever the bright sun of heaven shall shine,
His honour and the greatness of his name
Shall be, and make new nations; he shall flourish,
And like a mountain cedar reach his branches
To all the plains about him; our children's children
Shall see this and bless heaven.

As a decrepit father takes delight
To see his active child do deeds of youth,
So I, made lame by Fortune's dearest spite,
Take all my comfort of thy worth and truth.

I will not hence till with my talk and tears,
Both full of truth, I make King Lewis behold
Thy sly conveyance and thy lord's false love;
For both of you are birds of self-same feather.

In saying so, you shall but say the truth.

On my soul, I'll speak but truth.

Nay, it is ten times true for truth is truth To the end of reckoning.

Truth will come to sight murder cannot be hid long.

O, what authority and show of truth can cunning sin cover itself withal.

To say the truth, true and not true.

When my love swears that she is made of truth I do believe her, though I know she lies, That she might think me some untutor'd youth, Unlearned in the world's false subtleties. Thus vainly thinking that she thinks me young, Although she knows my days are past the best, Simply I credit her false speaking tongue On both sides thus is simple truth suppress'd. But wherefore says she not she is unjust And wherefore say not I that I am old O, love's best habit is in seeming trust, And age in love loves not to have years told Therefore I lie with her and she with me, And in our faults by lies we flatter'd be.

To say the truth, this fact was infamous
And ill beseeming any common man,
Much more a knight, a captain, and a leader.

If your business
Seek me out, and that way I am wife in,
Out with it boldly; truth loves open dealing.

Past cure I am, now reason is past care,
And frantic-mad with evermore unrest;
My thoughts and my discourse as mad men's are,
At random from the truth vainly expressed.

Like oneWho having into truth, by telling of it,Made such a sinner of his memory,To credit his own lie.

To say the truth, reason and love keep little company together now-a-days.