William Shakespeare Quotes
''They said they were an-hungry; sighed forth proverbsWilliam Shakespeare (1564-1616), British dramatist, poet. Caius Marcius, later Coriolanus, in Coriolanus, act 1, sc 1, l. 205-8. A patrician's contempt for the starving populace of Rome.
That hunger broke stone walls, that dogs must eat,
That meat was made for mouths, that the gods sent not
Corn for the rich men only.''
''Your heart's desires be with you!''William Shakespeare (1564-1616), British dramatist, poet. Celia, in As You Like It, act 1, sc. 2, l. 199.
''Do as the heavens have done, forget your evil;William Shakespeare (1564-1616), British dramatist, poet. Cleomenes, in The Winter's Tale, act 5, sc. 1, l. 5-6. Begging Leontes to forgive himself for causing, as he thinks, the death of his wife, Hermione.
With them, forgive yourself.''
''My gracious silence, hail!William Shakespeare (1564-1616), British dramatist, poet. Coriolanus, in Coriolanus, act 2, sc. 1, l. 175. To his wife, Virgilia, who weeps with relief that he has returned alive from battle.
Wouldst thou have laughed had I come coffined home,
That weep'st to see me triumph?''
''Runs not this speech like iron through your blood?''William Shakespeare (1564-1616), British dramatist, poet. Don Pedro, in Much Ado About Nothing, act 5, sc. 1, l. 245. To Claudio, on learning they were misled into thinking Hero false.
''The barge she sat in, like a burnished throneWilliam Shakespeare (1564-1616), British dramatist, poet. Enobarbus, in Antony and Cleopatra, act 2, sc. 2, l. 198-204 (1623). Describing Cleopatra's arrival at her first meeting with Antony. As for its occupant, "For her own person,/It beggared all description." T.S. Eliot wrote a pastiche of this passage in The Waste Land, "A Game of Chess."
Burned on the water. The poop was beaten gold;
Purple the sails, and so perfumed that
The winds were love-sick with them. The oars were silver,
Which to the tune of flutes kept stroke, and made
The water which they beat to follow faster,
As amorous of their strokes.''
''Rammed me in with foul shirts and smocks, socks, foul stockings, greasy napkins, that, Master Brook, there was the rankest compound of villainous smell that ever offended nostril.''William Shakespeare (1564-1616), British dramatist, poet. Falstaff, in The Merry Wives of Windsor, act 3, sc. 5, l. 89-93. On his experience of being hidden in a basket of foul linen.
''There is a willow grows aslant a brookWilliam Shakespeare (1564-1616), British dramatist, poet. Gertrude, in Hamlet, act 4, sc. 7, l. 166-7. "His" means its; "hoar" means frost; the undersides of willow leaves are greyish white, like frost.
That shows his hoar leaves in the glassy stream.''
''Neither a borrower nor a lender be,William Shakespeare (1564-1616), British poet. Hamlet (I, iii). Giving advice to his son Laertes, departing for France. The Unabridged William Shakespeare, William George Clark and William Aldis Wright, eds. (1989) Running Press.
For loan oft loses both itself and friend,
And borrowing dulls the edge of husbandry.
This above all: to thine own self be true,
And it must follow, as the night the day,
Thou canst not then be false to any man.''
''There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio,William Shakespeare (1564-1616), British dramatist, poet. Hamlet, in Hamlet, act 1, sc. 5, l. 168-9 (1604). In response to Horatio's exclamation "O day and night, but this is wondrous strange!"Mwhich followed Hamlet's initial encounter with the ghost.
Than are dreamt of in our philosophy.''
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All The World's A Stage
All the world's a stage,
And all the men and women merely players;
They have their exits and their entrances,
And one man in his time plays many parts,
His acts being seven ages. At first, the infant,
Mewling and puking in the nurse's arms.
Then the whining schoolboy, with his satchel
And shining morning face, creeping like snail
Unwillingly to school. And then the lover,
Sighing like furnace, with a woeful ballad
Made to his mistress' eyebrow. Then a soldier,
Full of strange oaths and bearded like the pard,
Jealous in honor, sudden and quick in ...
What's in the brain that ink may character
Which hath not figured to thee my true spirit?
What's new to speak, what new to register,
That may express my love or thy dear merit?
Nothing, sweet boy; but yet, like prayers divine,
I must, each day say o'er the very same,
Counting no old thing old, thou mine, I thine,
Even as when first I hallow'd thy fair name.
So that eternal love in love's fresh case