William Shakespeare Quotes (3360 Quotes)

But it is a melancholy of mine own, compounded of many simples, extracted from many objects, and indeed the sundry contemplation of my travels, which, by often rumination, wraps me in the most humorous sadness.

You blocks, you stones, you worthless than senseless things.

I had rather hear my dog bark at a crow, than a man swear he loves me.

I never yet did hear, That the bruis'd heart was pierced through the ear

This making of Christians will raise the price of hogs.

Well, God give them wisdom that have it; and those that are fools, let them use their talents.

I pray you, do not fall in love with me, for I am falser than vows made in wine.

Cordelia! stay a little. Ha! What is't thou say'st? Her voice was ever soft.

I should think this a gull, but that the white-bearded fellow speaks it; knavery cannot, sure, hide himself in such reverence.

I would not put a thief in my mouth to steal my brains.

Tis no mean happiness to be seated in the mean.

I'll have no husband, if you be not he.

I do profess to be no less than I seem; to serve him truly that will put me in trust: to love him that is honest; to converse with him that is wise, and says little; to fear judgment; to fight when I cannot choose; and to eat no fish.

I wish my horse had the speed of your tongue.

Look to her, Moor, if thou has eyes to see. She has deceived her father, and may thee.

You speak an infinite deal of nothing.

My affection hath an unknown bottom, like the Bay of Portugal.

Love's not love when it is mingled with regards that stand aloof from the entire point.

If her breath were as terrible as her terminations, there were no living near her, she would infect to the north star!

Rude am I in my speech, And little blessed with the soft phrase of peace.

Ay, to the proof, as mountains are for winds, that shakes not, though they blow perpetually.

The fool doth think he is wise, but the wise man knows himself to be a fool.

More fools know Jack Fool than Jack Fool knows.

In time the savage bull doth bear the yoke.

The robb'd that smiles, steals something from the thief; He robs himself that spends a bootless grief.

I am agreed, and would I had given him the best horse in Padua to begin his wooing that would thoroughly woo her, wed her, and bed her, and rid the house of her

Ay, in the temple, in the town, the field, You do me mischief. Fie, Demetrius! Your wrongs do set a scandal on my sex: We cannot fight for love, as men ay do; We should be woo'd, and were not made to woo. I'll follow thee, and make a heaven of hell, To die upon the hand I love so well.

Time travels at different speeds for different people. I can tell you who time strolls for, who it trots for, who it gallops for, and who it stops cold for.

Nor are those empty-hearthed whose low sound reverbs no hollowness.

Is it not strange that sheep's guts could hail souls out of men's bodies?

This look of thine will hurl my soul from heaven.

If I be waspish, best beware my sting.

Because it is a customary cross, As die to love as thoughts, and dreams, and sighs, Wishes, and tears, poor fancy's followers.

Truly thou art damned, like an ill-roasted egg, all on one side.

The let-alone lies not in your good will.

Let me be that I am and seek not to alter me.

Thou weigh'st thy words before thou givest them breath.

My tongue will tell the anger of my heart, or else my heart concealing it will break.

Here come the lovers, full of joy and mirth.- Joy, gentle friends! joy and fresh days of love Accompany your hearts!

A piece of work that will make sick men whole.

This feather stirs; she lives! if it be so, it is a chance which does redeem all sorrows that ever I have felt.

Pause awhile, And let my counsel sway you.

Tis in ourselves that we are thus or thus. Our bodies are our gardens, to the which our wills are gardeners: so that if we will plant nettles, or sow lettuce, set hyssop and weed up tine, supply it with one gender of herbs, or distract it with many, either to have it sterile with idleness, or manured with industry, why, the power and corrigible authority of this lies in our wills.

She moves me not, or not removes at least affection's edge in me.

I charge thee, hence, and do not haunt me thus.

And some that smile have in their hearts, I fear, millions of mischiefs.

Thou art a boil, a plague sore, an embossed carbuncle in my corrupted blood.

Some Cupid kills with arrows, some with traps.

Tis within ourselves that we are thus or thus

Sit by my side, and let the world slip: we shall ne'er be younger.