William Shakespeare Quotes on Woman (39 Quotes)

I, that with my sword
Quarter'd the world, and o'er green Neptune's back
With ships made cities, condemn myself to lack
The courage of a woman; less noble mind
Than she which by her death our Caesar tells
I am conqueror of myself.

I know that a woman is a dish for
the gods, if the devil dress her not.

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.

Then I love thee
Because thou art a woman and disclaim'st
Flinty mankind, whose eyes do never give
But thorough lust and laughter.

Such duty as the subject owes the prince, Even such a woman oweth to her husband.

Women may fall when there's no strength in men.

Bring me a constant woman to her husband,
One that ne'er dream'd a joy beyond his pleasure,
And to that woman, when she has done most,
Yet will I add an honour-a great patience.

I charge
you, O women, for the love you bear to men, to like as much of
this play as please you; and I charge you, O men, for the love
you bear to women- as I perceive by your simp'ring none of you
hates them- that between you and the women the play may please.

But truly, these same
whoreson devils do the gods great harm in their women, for in
every ten that they make the devils mar five.

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?

A woman would run through fire and water for such a kind heart.

Hang the trifle, woman; take the honour.

Frailty, thy name is woman.

Framed to make women false.

Show me, my women, like a queen.

Good name in man and woman, dear my lord, Is the immediate jewel of their souls Who steals my purse steals trash tis something, nothing Twas mine, tis his, and has been slave to thousands But he that filches from me my good name Robs me of that which not enriches him, And makes me poor indeed.

She's beautiful, and therefore to be wooed She is a woman, therefore to be won.

I am ashamd that women are so simple To offer war where they should kneel for peace.

Constant you are, But yet a woman and for secrecy, No lady closer for I well believe Thou wilt not utter what thou dost not know.

Gentle thou art, and therefore to be won;
Beauteous thou art, therefore to be assailed;
And when a woman woos, what woman's son
Will sourly leave her till he have prevailed?

Well, if Fortune be a woman, she's a good wench for this gear.

Let us sit and mock the good housewife Fortune from her wheel, that her gifts may henceforth be bestowed equally, I would we could do so for her benefits are mightily misplaced and the bountiful blind girl doth most mistake in her gifts to women. 'Tis true for those that she makes fair she scarce makes honest and those that she makes honest she makes very ill-favouredly. Nay, now thou goest from Fortunes office to Natures. Fortune reigns in gifts of the world, not in the lineaments of Nature.

In sadness, cousin, I do love a woman.

Think with thyself
How more unfortunate than all living women
Are we come hither; since that thy sight, which should
Make our eyes flow with joy, hearts dance with comforts,
Constrains them weep and shake with fear and sorrow,
Making the mother, wife, and child, to see
The son, the husband, and the father, tearing
His country's bowels out.

He was to imagine me his
love, his mistress; and I set him every day to woo me; at which
time would I, being but a moonish youth, grieve, be effeminate,
changeable, longing and liking, proud, fantastical, apish,
shallow, inconstant, full of tears, full of smiles; for every
passion something and for no passion truly anything, as boys and
women are for the most part cattle of this colour; would now like
him, now loathe him; then entertain him, then forswear him; now
weep for him, then spit at him; that I drave my suitor from his
mad humour of love to a living humour of madness; which was, to
forswear the full stream of the world and to live in a nook
merely monastic.

Alas, I am a woman friendless, hopeless!

Her peerless feature, joined with her birth,
Approves her fit for none but for a king;
Her valiant courage and undaunted spirit,
More than in women commonly is seen,
Will answer our hope in issue of a king;
For Henry, son unto a conqueror,
Is likely to beget more conquerors,
If with a lady of so high resolve
As is fair Margaret he be link'd in love.

You and you no cross shall part;
You and you are heart in heart;
You to his love must accord,
Or have a woman to your lord;
You and you are sure together,
As the winter to foul weather.

Women are angels, wooing:
Things won are done; joy's soul lies in the doing.

Join not with grief, fair woman, do not so,
To make my end too sudden.

You that have so fair parts of woman on you
Have too a woman's heart, which ever yet
Affected eminence, wealth, sovereignty;
Which, to say sooth, are blessings; and which gifts,
Saving your mincing, the capacity
Of your soft cheveril conscience would receive
If you might please to stretch it.

Then let thy love be younger than thyself,
Or thy affection cannot hold the bent;
For women are as roses, whose fair flow'r
Being once display'd doth fall that very hour.

That man that hath a tongue, I say, is no man, if with his tongue he cannot win a woman.

Wilt thou love
such a woman?

Do you not know I am a woman when I think, I must speak.

Women nearest; but men, men are the things themselves.

Two loves I have, of comfort and despair,
Which like two spirits do suggest me still:
The better angel is a man right fair,
The worser spirit a woman coloured ill.

I heard of one of them no
longer than yesterday: a very honest woman, but something given
to lie, as a woman should not do but in the way of honesty; how
she died of the biting of it, what pain she felt- truly she makes
a very good report o' th' worm.

I will tell you-he beat me grievously
in the shape of a woman; for in the shape of man, Master
Brook, I fear not Goliath with a weaver's beam; because
I know also life is a shuttle.