Quotes About Emotion

By this leek, I will most horribly revenge. I eat and eat, I swear.

What's Hecuba to him or he to Hecuba,That he should weep for her?

I think we do know the sweet Roman hand.

Paddling palms and pinching fingers.

A man whose bloodIs very snow-broth; one who never feelsThe wanton stings and motions of the sense.

I lov'd Ophelia: forty thousand brothersCould not, with all their quantity of love,Make up my sum.

This night methinks is but the daylight sick.

Was ever woman in this humor woo'd?Was ever woman in this humor won?

But I will wear my heart upon my sleeveFor daws to peck at.

Has this fellow no feeling of his business, that he sings at grave-making?

Though last, not least in love.

Duke: And what's her history?Viola: A blank, my lord. She never told her love,But let concealment, like a worm i' the bud,Feed on her damask cheek: she pin'd in thought,And with a green and yellow melancholy,She sat like Patience on a monument,Smiling at grief.

Then, kill, kill, kill, kill, kill, kill!

When the blood burns, how prodigal the soulLends the tongue vows.

I never heardSo musical a discord, such sweet thunder.

O! never say that I was false of heart,Though absence seem'd my flame to qualify.

To weep is to make less the depth of grief.

O! what a deal of scorn looks beautifulIn the contempt and anger of his lip.

The stroke of death is as a lover's pinch, which hurts and is desired.

William Shakespeare

Hang up philosophy!Unless philosophy can make a Juliet.

The big round tearsCours'd one another down his innocent noseIn piteous chase.

O happy horse, to bear the weight of Antony!

Sweets to the sweet: farewell!