Quotes from William Shakespeare

O sleep! O gentle sleep! Nature's soft nurse.

Diseased Nature oftentimes breaks forth In strange eruptions.

In nature's infinite book of secrecy A little I can read.

Nature hath meal and bran, contempt and grace.

A tardiness in nature, Which often leaves the history unspoke, That it intends to do.

Thou know'st 'tis common; all that lives must die, Passing through nature to eternity.

We are not ourselves When nature, being oppressed, commands the mind To suffer with the body.

A violet in the youth of primy nature, Forward, not permanent--sweet, not lasting; The perfume and suppliance of a minute; No more.

Boundless intemperance In nature is a tyranny. It hath been Th' untimely emptying of the happy throne And fall of many kings.

There should be hours for necessities, not for delights; times to repair our nature with comforting repose, and not for us to waste these times.

Allow not nature more than nature needs.

My nature is subdued to what it works in, like the dyer's hand.

How sometimes nature will betray its folly, Its tenderness, and make itself a pastime To harder bosoms!

The earth, that is nature's mother, is her tomb.

Nature, as it grows again toward earth, is fashioned for the journey, dull and heavy.

O sir, you are old; nature in you stands on the very verge of her confine; you should be ruled and led by some discretion, that discerns your fate better than you yourself.

The deep of night is crept upon our talk, And Nature must obey necessity.

How quickly nature falls into revolt When gold becomes her object! For this the foolish over-careful fathers Have broke their sleep with thoughts, their brains with care, Their bones with industry.

But thou art fair, and at thy birth, dear boy, Nature and Fortune join'd to make thee great: Of Nature's gifts thou mayst with lilies boast, And with the half-blown rose; but Fortune, O!

I have thought some of Nature's journeymen had made men and not made them well, they imitated humanity so abominably.

The nature of bad news affects the teller.

Tis often seen Adoption strives with nature; and choice breeds A native slip to us from foreign lands.

I can again thy former light restore, Should I repent me: but once put out thy light, Thou cunning'st pattern of excelling nature, I know not where is that Promethean heat That can thy light relume.

Nature's tears are reason's merriment.