Quotes from William Shakespeare

I dare do all that may become a man; Who dares do more, is none

Beware the ides of March.

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

in black ink my love may still shine bright.

You are a lover. Borrow Cupid's wings and soar with them above a common bound.

Journeys end in lovers meeting, Every wise man's son doth know.

Love is merely a madness; and, I tell you, deserves as well a dark house and a whip as madmen do; and the reason why they are not so punish'd and cured is that the lunacy is so ordinary that the whippers are in love too.

O sleep, O gentle sleep, Nature's soft nurse, how have I frightened thee. That thou no more will weigh my eyelids down, And steep my senses in forgetfulness?

No legacy is so rich as honesty.

Many a true word hath been spoken in jest.

If I were to kiss you then go to hell, I would. So then I can brag with the devils I saw heaven without ever entering it.

The prince of darkness is a gentleman!

All things are ready, if our mind be so.

A glooming peace this morning with it brings; The sun, for sorrow, will not show his head: Go hence, to have more talk of these sad things; Some shall be pardon'd, and some punished: For never was a story of more woe Than this of Juliet and her Romeo.

To be honest, as this world goes, is to be one man picked out of ten thousand.

Eye of newt, and toe of frog, Wool of bat, and tongue of dog, Adder's fork, and blind-worm's sting, Lizard's leg, and owlet's wing,— For a charm of powerful trouble, Like a hell-broth boil and bubble. Double, double toil and trouble; Fire burn, and caldron bubble.

I am but mad north-north-west. When the wind is southerly, I know a hawk from a handsaw.

O God, I could be bounded in a nutshell, and count myself a king of infinite space, were it not that I have bad dreams. Which dreams, indeed, are ambition; for the very substance of the ambitious is merely the shadow of a dream.

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

Better three hours too soon than a minute too late.

love is blind and lovers cannot see the pretty follies that themselves commit

The rest, is silence.

Thou mad mustachio purple-hued maltworms!

Come what come may, time and the hour run through the roughest day.