Quotes from William Shakespeare

But yesterday the word of Caesar might Have stood against the world; now lies he there, And none so poor to do him reverence.

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

Why, then, the world's mine oyster, Which I with sword will open.

The worst is not so long as we can say, "This is the worst."

Crabbed age and youth cannot live together; Youth is full of pleasure, age is full of care; Youth like summer morn, age like winter weather; Youth like summer brave, age like winter bare. Youth is full sport, age's breath is short; Youth is nimble, age is lame; Youth is hot and bold, age is weak and cold; Youth is wild, age is tame. Age, I do abhor thee; youth, I do adore thee.

O war! thou son of Hell!

Fight to the last gasp.

... I am At war 'twixt will and will not.

I will kill thee a hundred and fifty ways.

Go, bid the soldiers shoot.

Upon his royal face there is no note how dread an army hath enrounded him.

The peace of heaven is theirs that lift their swords, in such a just and charitable war.

Let me have war, say I; it exceeds peace as far as day does night; it's spritely, waking, audible, and full of vent.

War is no strife To the dark house and the detested wife.

We go to gain a little patch of ground that hath in it no profit but the name.

Cheerily to sea; the signs of war advance: No king of England, if not king of France

Were it good To set the exact wealth of all our states All at one cast? to set so rich a main On the nice hazard of one doubtful hour? It were not good.

That England, that was wont to conquer others, Hath made a shameful conquest of itself.

Religious canons, civil laws, are cruel; then what should war be?

For I can raise no money by vile means. By heaven, I had rather coin my heart, And drop my blood for drachmas

It is war's prize to take all vantages; And ten to one is no impeach of valor.

The undeserver may sleep when the man of action is called on.

He that is truly dedicated to war hath no self-love

In God's name cheerly on, courageous friends, To reap the harvest of perpetual peace By this one bloody trial of sharp war.