Quotes from William Shakespeare

Who riseth from a feastWith that keen appetite that he sits down?

That unlettered small-knowing soul.

You are pictures out of doors,Bells in your parlors, wildcats in your kitchens,Saints in your injuries, devils being offended,Players in your housewifery, and housewives in your beds.

Fortune brings in some boats that are not steer'd.

Shake off this downy sleep, death's counterfeit.

Thou hast done a deed whereat valor will weep.

Never yet did insurrection wantSuch water-colors to impaint his cause.

I have very poor and unhappy brains for drinking.

My fell of hairWould at a dismal treatise rouse and stirAs life were in 't. I have supp'd full with horrors.

Mincing poetry:'Tis like the forc'd gait of a shuffling nag.

He doth nothing but talk of his horse.

Beauty's ensign yetIs crimson in thy lips and in thy cheeks,And death's pale flag is not advanced there.

And the vile squealing of the wry-neck'd fife.

Then be thou jocund. Ere the bat hath flownHis cloister'd flight, ere, to black Hecate's summonsThe shard-borne beetle with his drowsy humsHath rung night's yawning peal, there shall be doneA deed of dreadful note.

For to be wise, and love,Exceeds man's might; that dwells with gods above.

A sailor's wife had chestnuts in her lap,And munch'd, and munch'd, and munch'd: "Give me," quoth I:"Aroint thee, witch!" the rump-fed ronyon cries.

The very ratsInstinctively have quit it.

But this rough magicI here abjure.

Glamis thou art, and Cawdor; and shalt beWhat thou art promis'd. Yet do I fear thy nature;It is too full o' the milk of human kindnessTo catch the nearest way.

For sufferance is the badge of all our tribe.You call me misbeliever, cut-throat dog,And spet upon my Jewish gaberdine.

I'll use you for my mirth, yea, for my laughter,When you are waspish.

Well, if Fortune be a woman, she's a good wench for this gear.

Suspicion all our lives shall be stuck full of eyes;For treason is but trusted like the fox.

Like to the Pontick sea,Whose icy current and compulsive courseNe'er feels retiring ebb, but keeps due onTo the Propontic and the Hellespont,Even so my bloody thoughts, with violent pace,Shall ne'er look back, ne'er ebb to humble love,Till that a capable and wide revengeSwallow them up.