I can easier teach twenty what were good to be done, than be one of the twenty to follow my own teaching.
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.
O, know, sweet love, I always write of you,
And you and love are still my argument;
So all my best is dressing old words new,
Spending again what is already spent.
My conscience, thou art fetter'd
More than my shanks and wrists; you good gods, give me
The penitent instrument to pick that bolt,
Then, free for ever!
Marry, his kisses are Judas's own children.
Give thy thoughts no tongue.
But, Roderigo, if thou hast that
in thee indeed, which I have greater reason to believe now than
ever, I mean purpose, courage, and valor, this night show it; if
thou the next night following enjoy not Desdemona, take me from
this world with treachery and devise engines for my life.
I love him for his sake;
And yet I know him a notorious liar,
Think him a great way fool, solely a coward;
Yet these fix'd evils sit so fit in him
That they take place when virtue's steely bones
Looks bleak i' th' cold wind; withal, full oft we see
Cold wisdom waiting on superfluous folly.
Faith, I must; she'll rail i' the street else.
He that will have a cake out of wheat must tarry the grinding.
I never did
Offend you in my life; never loved Cassio
But with such general warranty of heaven
As I might love.
All is the fear and nothing is the love;
As little is the wisdom, where the flight
So runs against all reason.
Frame thy mind to mirth and merriment, which bars a thousand arms, and lengthens life.
You are not wood, you are not stones, but men.
As soon go kindle fire with snow, as seek to quench the fire of love with words.
So that, dear lords, if I be left behind,
A moth of peace, and he go to the war,
The rites for which I love him are bereft me,
And I a heavy interim shall support
By his dear absence.
Be quiet, or- More light, more light!
Men may sleep, and
they may have their throats about them at that time; and some say
knives have edges.
Why, how now, sons and brother!
Alas, poor Yorick I knew him, Horatio a fellow of infinite jest, of most excellent fancy. Where be your jibes now, your gambols, your songs, your flashes of merriment that were wont to set the table on a roar
Presume not that I am the thing I was.
Wisely, and slow. They stumble that run fast.
The kings name is a tower of strength.
Thou art all ice. Thy kindness freezes.
Besides, our nearness to the King in love
Is near the hate of those love not the King.
I never tempted her with word too large,
But, as a brother to his sister, show'd
Bashful sincerity and comely love.
Her virtues, graced with external gifts,
Do breed love's settled passions in my heart;
And like as rigour of tempestuous gusts
Provokes the mightiest hulk against the tide,
So am I driven by breath of her renown
Either to suffer shipwreck or arrive
Where I may have fruition of her love.
Where the bee sucks, there suck I:
In a cowslip's bell I lie;
There I couch when owls do cry.
A man may see how this world goes with no eyes. Look with thine ears see how yond justice rails upon yon simple thief. Hark, in thine ear change places and, handy-dandy, which is the justice, which is the thief.
he was too good to be
Where ill men were, and was the best of all
Amongst the rar'st of good ones- sitting sadly
Hearing us praise our loves of Italy
For beauty that made barren the swell'd boast
Of him that best could speak; for feature, laming
The shrine of Venus or straight-pight Minerva,
Postures beyond brief nature; for condition,
A shop of all the qualities that man
Loves woman for; besides that hook of wiving,
Fairness which strikes the eye-
William Shakespeare - Tennessee Williams - Oscar Wilde - George Bernard Shaw - Richard Steele - John Fletcher - Jean Racine - Henry Porter - Anton Chekhov - Alexandre Dumas