Quotes from William Shakespeare

This is the very false gallop of verses.

The time is out of joint; O cursed spite,That ever I was born to set it right!

I'll speak in a monstrous little voice.

Past cure I am, now Reason is past care,And frantic-mad with evermore unrest.

How much better is it to weep at joy than to joy at weeping!

The innocent sleep, Sleep that knits up the ravelled sleave of care...

Dost thou not see my baby at my breast,That sucks the nurse asleep?

Where love is great, the littlest doubts are fear;When little fears grow great, great love grows there.

How much more elder art thou than thy looks!

The sense of death is most in apprehension,And the poor beetle, that we tread upon,In corporal sufferance finds a pang as greatAs when a giant dies.

Hysterica passio! down, thou climbing sorrow!Thy element's below.

We ready are to try our fortunesTo the last man.

And what makes robbers bold but too much lenity?

Who wears his wit in his belly, and his guts in his head.

The glass of fashion and the mould of form,The observ'd of all observers!

I will be the pattern of all patience.

Devise, wit; write, pen; for I am for whole volumes in folio.

I am more an antique Roman than a Dane.

You two are book-men.

Answer me in one word.

Moth: They have been at a great feast of languages, and stolen the scraps.Costard: O! they have lived long on the almsbasket of words. I marvel thy master hath not eaten thee for a word; for thou art not so long by the head as honorificabilitudinitatibus: thou art easier swallowed than a flap-dragon.

How apt the poor are to be proud.

I have a daughter;Would any of the stock of BarabbasHad been her husband rather than a Christian!

Your wit's too hot, it speeds too fast, 'twill tire.