William Shakespeare Quotes (3360 Quotes)

Too early seen unknown, and known too late.

If that the Dauphin there, thy princely son,
Can in this book of beauty read 'I love,'
Her dowry shall weigh equal with a queen;
For Anjou, and fair Touraine, Maine, Poictiers,
And all that we upon this side the sea-
Except this city now by us besieg'd-
Find liable to our crown and dignity,
Shall gild her bridal bed, and make her rich
In titles, honours, and promotions,
As she in beauty, education, blood,
Holds hand with any princess of the world.

My heart prays for him, though my tongue do curse.

When to the sessions of sweet silent thought I summon up remembrance of things past.

John, to stop Arthur's tide in the whole,
Hath willingly departed with a part;
And France, whose armour conscience buckled on,
Whom zeal and charity brought to the field
As God's own soldier, rounded in the ear
With that same purpose-changer, that sly devil,
That broker that still breaks the pate of faith,
That daily break-vow, he that wins of all,
Of kings, of beggars, old men, young men, maids,
Who having no external thing to lose
But the word 'maid,' cheats the poor maid of that;
That smooth-fac'd gentleman, tickling commodity,
Commodity, the bias of the world-
The world, who of itself is peised well,
Made to run even upon even ground,
Till this advantage, this vile-drawing bias,
This sway of motion, this commodity,
Makes it take head from all indifferency,
From all direction, purpose, course, intent-
And this same bias, this commodity,
This bawd, this broker, this all-changing word,
Clapp'd on the outward eye of fickle France,
Hath drawn him from his own determin'd aid,
From a resolv'd and honourable war,
To a most base and vile-concluded peace.

Sweet mercy is nobility's true badge.

Give sorrow words. The grief that does not speak whispers the o'er-fraught heart, and bids it break.

Things without remedy, should be without regard what is done, is done.

The iron tongue of midnight hath told twelve.

Now stand you on the top of happy hours,
And many maiden gardens yet unset,
With virtuous wish would bear you living flowers,
Much liker than your painted counterfeit:
So should the lines of life that life repair
Which this, Time's pencil, or my pupil pen
Neither in inward worth nor outward fair
Can make you live your self in eyes of men.

I am here with thee and thy goats, as the most
capricious poet, honest Ovid, was among the Goths.

But now I am cabin'd, cribb'd, confined, bound in To saucy doubts and fears.

A grandam's name is little less in love
Than is the doating title of a mother;
They are as children but one step below,
Even of your metal, of your very blood;
Of all one pain, save for a night of groans
Endur'd of her, for whom you bid like sorrow.

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.

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

What is love 'tis not hereafter Present mirth hath present laughter.

Pride went before, ambition follows him.

And these few precepts in thy memory Look thou character. Give thy thoughts no tongue, Nor any unproportiond thought his act. Be thou familiar, but by no means vulgar The friends thou hast, and their adoption tried, Grapple them to thy soul with hoops of steel.

'Tis my vocation, Hal 'tis no sin for a man to labour in his vocation.

But soft What light through yonder window breaks It is the East, and Juliet is the sun Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon, who is already sick and pale with grief that thou her maid art far more fair than she.

Woe to the land that's govern'd by a child.

Why, Romeo, art thou mad?

O, learn to read what silent love hath writ,
To hear with eyes belongs to love's fine wit.

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

What's done can't be undone.

Dear, they durst not,
So dear the love my people bore me; nor set
A mark so bloody on the business; but
With colours fairer painted their foul ends.

O Romeo, Romeo wherefore art thou Romeo.

I will wear my heart upon my sleeve for daws to peck at.

Yes, my good lord: a pure unspotted heart,
Never yet taint with love, I send the King.

What will the line stretch out to the crack of doom.

Would you were half so honest!

I will be satisfied; let me see the writing.

Ay, but I hope, sir, that you love not here.

There's not a note of mine that's worth the noting.

Upon my back, to defend my belly; upon my wit, to defend
my wiles; upon my secrecy, to defend mine honesty; my mask, to
defend my beauty; and you, to defend all these; and at all these
wards I lie at, at a thousand watches.

Come, swear to that; kiss the book.

Modest doubt is called the beacon of the wise.

When I was at home, I was in a better place But travelers must be content.

Therefore-to speak, and to avoid the first,
And then, in speaking, not to incur the last-
Definitively thus I answer you:
Your love deserves my thanks, but my desert
Unmeritable shuns your high request.

Sweet are the uses of adversity.

In faith, I do not love thee with mine eyes,
For they in thee a thousand errors note;
But 'tis my heart that loves what they despise,
Who in despite of view is pleased to dote.

Jesus, the days that we have seen!

Live, and beget a happy race of kings!

Your name from hence immortal life shall have,
Though I, once gone, to all the world must die;
The earth can yield me but a common grave,
When you entombèd in men's eyes shall lie.

English John Talbot, Captains, calls you forth,
Servant in arms to Harry King of England;
And thus he would open your city gates,
Be humble to us, call my sovereignvours
And do him homage as obedient subjects,
And I'll withdraw me and my bloody power;
But if you frown upon this proffer'd peace,
You tempt the fury of my three attendants,
Lean famine, quartering steel, and climbing fire;
Who in a moment even with the earth
Shall lay your stately and air braving towers,
If you forsake the offer of their love.

Taffeta phrases, silken terms precise, Three-piled hyperboles, spruce affectation, Figures pedantical.

Where is this rash and most unfortunate man.

With this I
depart- that, as I slew my best lover for the good of Rome, I
have the same dagger for myself, when it shall please my country
to need my death.

Ay, I thank God, my father, and yourself.

It is the very error of the moonShe comes more nearer earth than she was wont,And drives men mad.