Quotes from William Shakespeare

Captain of our fairy band, Helena is here at hand, And the youth, mistook by me, Pleading for a lover's fee. Shall we their fond pageant see? Lord, what fools these mortals be!

Those that much covet are with gain so fond, For what they have not, that which they possess They scatter and unloose it from their bond, And so, by hoping more, they have but less; Or, gaining more, the profit of excess Is but to surfeit, and such griefs sustain, That they prove bankrupt in this poor-rich gain.

I drink to the general joy o' the whole table. Macbeth

Why, i' faith, methinks she's too low for a high praise, too brown for a fair praise and too little for a great praise: only this commendation I can afford her, that were she other than she is, she were unhandsome; and being no other but as she is, I do not like her. (Benedick, from Much Ado About Nothing)

Let the doors be shut upon him, that he may play the fool no where but in's own house.

Many a good hanging prevents a bad marriage.

And some that smile have in their hearts, I fear, millions of mischiefs.

But tis strange: And oftentimes, to win us to our harm, the Instruments of Darkness tell us truths, win us with honest trifles, to betray's in deepest consequence.

And as imagination bodies forth The forms of things unknown, the poet's pen Turns them to shapes and gives to airy nothing A local habitation and a name

Yet who would have thought the old man to have had so much blood in him? - Lady Macbeth

Innocent sleep. Sleep that soothes away all our worries. Sleep that puts each day to rest. Sleep that relieves the weary laborer and heals hurt minds. Sleep, the main course in life's feast, and the most nourishing.

The summer's flower is to the summer sweet Though to itself it only live and die

I am one, sir, that comes to tell you your daughter and the Moor are now making the beast with two backs.

One fairer than my love? The all-seeing sun Ne'er saw her match since first the world begun.

When devils will the blackest sins put on They do suggest at first with heavenly shows

He that is proud eats up himself: pride is his own glass, his own trumpet, his own chronicle.

I have supped full with horrors.

Few love to hear the sins they love to act.

Our bodies are our gardens to which our wills are gardeners.

This rough magic I here abjure, and, when I have required Some heavenly music, which even now I do, To work mine end upon their senses that This airy charm is for, I'll break my staff, Bury it certain fathoms in the earth, And deeper than did ever plummet sound I'll drown my book.

Alack, there lies more peril in thine eye Than twenty of their swords: look thou but sweet, And I am proof against their enmity.

And oftentimes, to win us to our harm, The instruments of darkness tell us truths, Win us with honest trifles, to betray's In deepest consequence

Why are our bodies soft, and weak, and smooth But that our soft conditions and our hearts Should well agree with our external parts?

This rudeness is a sauce to his good wit, Which gives men stomach to digest his words With better appetite.