Quotes from William Shakespeare

Hector is dead; there is no more to say.

For stony limits cannot hold love out.

By heaven, I do love, and it hath taught me to rime, and to be melancholy.

O! for a horse with wings!

As happy prologues to the swelling actOf the imperial theme.

So shalt thou feed on Death, that feeds on men,And Death once dead, there's no more dying then.

The little foolery that wise men have makes a great show.

When he is best, he is a little worse than a man, and when he is worst, he is little better than a beast.

Sorrow breaks seasons and reposing hours,Makes the night morning, and the noontide night.

Hang out our banners on the outward walls;The cry is still, "They come"; our castle's strengthWill laugh a siege to scorn.

And there at Venice gaveHis body to that pleasant country's earth,And his pure soul unto his captain Christ,Under whose colors he had fought so long.

It did me yeoman's service.

This day is call'd the feast of Crispian:He that outlives this day, and comes safe home,Will stand a tip-toe when this day is nam'd.And rouse him at the name of Crispian.

In sleep a king, but, waking, no such matter.

Two households, both alike in dignity In fair Verona, where we lay our scene From ancient grudge break to new mutiny Where civil blood makes civil hands unclean. From forth the fatal loins of these two foes A pair of star-cross'd lovers take their life Whose misadventured piteous overthrows Do with their death bury their parents' strife.

When in disgrace with fortune and men's eyesI all alone beweep my outcast state,And trouble deaf heaven with my bootless cries.

The dreadful summit of the cliffThat beetles o'er his base into the sea.

There is occasions and causes why and wherefore in all things.

Thy ignominy sleep with thee in the grave,But not remember'd in thy epitaph!

We are in God's hand.

I have full cause of weeping, but this heartShall break into a hundred thousand flawsOr ere I'll weep. O fool! I shall go mad.

There's time enough for that.

My mistress' eyes are nothing like the sun;Coral is far more red than her lips' red:If snow be white, why then her breasts are dun;If hairs be wires, black wires grow on her head.

He that is robb'd, not wanting what is stol'n,Let him not know 't and he's not robb'd at all.