Quotes from William Shakespeare

So fair and foul a day I have not seen.

The love that follows us sometime is our trouble, which still we thank as love.

And therefore, — since I cannot prove a lover, To entertain these fair well-spoken days, — I am determined to prove a villain, And hate the idle pleasures of these days.

Give every man thy ear, but few thy voice; Take each man's censure, but reserve thy judgment. But not express'd in fancy; rich, not gaudy; For the apparel oft proclaims the man, And they in France of the best rank and station Are of a most select and generous chief in that.

How does your patient, doctor? Doctor: Not so sick, my lord, as she is troubled with thick-coming fancies that keep her from rest. Macbeth: Cure her of that! Canst thou not minister to a mind diseased, pluck from the memory a rooted sorrow, raze out the written troubles of the brain, and with some sweet oblivious antidote cleanse the stuffed bosom of that perilous stuff which weighs upon her heart. Doctor: Therein the patient must minister to himself.

Misery acquaints a man with strange bedfellows.

When I bestride him, I soar, I am a hawk: he trots the air; the earth sings when he touches it; the basest horn of his hoof is more musical than the pipe of Hermes.

A miracle. Here's our own hands against our hearts. Come, I will have thee, but by this light I take thee for pity. Beatrice: I would not deny you, but by this good day, I yield upon great persuasion, and partly to save your life, for I was told you were in a consumption. Benedick: Peace. I will stop your mouth.

I say, there is no darkness but ignorance; in which thou art more puzzled than the Egyptians in their fog.

I will live in thy heart, die in thy lap, and be buried in thy eyes—and moreover, I will go with thee to thy uncle's.

And worse I may be yet: the worst is not So long as we can say 'This is the worst.

She loved me for the dangers I had passed, And I loved her that she did pity them. This only is the witchcraft I have used.

For you, in my respect, are all the world. Then how can it be said I am alone When all the world is here to look on me?

The Play's the Thing, wherein I'll catch the conscience of the King.

Self-love, my liege, is not so vile a sin, as self-neglecting.

Now is the winter of our discontent Made glorious summer by this sun of York; And all the clouds that lour'd upon our house In the deep bosom of the ocean buried.

O! she doth teach the torches to burn bright It seems she hangs upon the cheek of night Like a rich jewel in an Ethiop's ear; Beauty too rich for use, for earth too dear. - Romeo -

I would not wish Any companion in the world but you, Nor can imagination form a shape, Besides yourself, to like of.

Men should be what they seem.

One fire burns out another's burning, One pain is lessen'd by another's anguish.

Let us not burthen our remembrance with A heaviness that's gone.

Take pains. Be perfect.

True, I talk of dreams, Which are the children of an idle brain, Begot of nothing but vain fantasy, Which is as thin of substance as the air, And more inconstant than the wind, who woos Even now the frozen bosom of the north, And, being anger'd, puffs away from thence, Turning his side to the dew-dropping south.

The tempter or the tempted, who sins most?