William Shakespeare Quotes
''Now bid me run,William Shakespeare (1564-1616), British dramatist, poet. Ligarius, in Julius Caesar, act 2, sc. 1, l. 324-6. Though sick, Ligarius joins the conspirators against Caesar.
And I will strive with things impossible,
Yea, get the better of them.''
''O, full of scorpions is my mind, dear wife!''William Shakespeare (1564-1616), British dramatist, poet. Macbeth, in Macbeth, act 3, sc. 2, l. 36.
''They thought it good you hear a play,William Shakespeare (1564-1616), British dramatist, poet. Messenger, in The Taming of the Shrew, Induction, sc. 2, l. 134-6. Inviting the tinker Sly to watch the play.
And frame your mind to mirth and merriment,
Which bars a thousand harms and lengthens life.''
''When my old wife lived, uponWilliam Shakespeare (1564-1616), British dramatist, poet. Old Shepherd, in The Winter's Tale, act 4, sc. 4, l. 55-62. Urging his (supposed) daughter Perdita to play the hostess; "pantler" means pantry server; "On his shoulder" means at his shoulder, i.e., to serve food or drink.
This day she was both pantler, butler, cook,
Both dame and servant, welcomed all, served all,
Would sing her song and dance her turn, now here
At upper end o'the table, now i'the middle,
On his shoulder, and his, her face afire
With labor, and the thing she took to quench it
She would to each one sip.''
''Yet by your gracious patienceWilliam Shakespeare (1564-1616), British dramatist, poet. Othello, in Othello, act 1, sc. 3, l. 89-91. Explaining to the Venetian senate his courtship of Desdemona.
I will a round unvarnished tale deliver
Of my whole course of love.''
''Say that she rail, why then I'll tell her plainWilliam Shakespeare (1564-1616), British dramatist, poet. Petruchio, in The Taming of the Shrew, act 2, sc. 1, l. 170-6. Petruchio's plan for wooing Katherine.
She sings as sweetly as a nightingale.
Say that she frown, I'll say she looks as clear
As morning roses newly washed with dew.
Say she be mute, and will not speak a word,
Then I'll commend her volubility,
And say she uttereth piercing eloquence.''
''I see, sir, you are liberal in offers.William Shakespeare (1564-1616), British dramatist, poet. Portia, in The Merchant of Venice, act 4, sc. 1, l. 438-40. In disguise, she demands that Bassanio give her the ring she gave him, and which he swore should never leave his finger.
You taught me first to beg, and now methinks
You teach me how a beggar should be answered.''
''A turn or two I'll walkWilliam Shakespeare (1564-1616), British dramatist, poet. Prospero, in The Tempest, act 4, sc. 1, l. 162-3.
To still my beating mind.''
''O, then, I see Queen Mab hath been with you.William Shakespeare (1564-1616), British poet. Romeo and Juliet (I, iv). . . The Unabridged William Shakespeare, William George Clark and William Aldis Wright, eds. (1989) Running Press.
She is the fairies' midwife, and she comes
In shape no bigger than an agate-stone
On the fore-finger of an alderman,
Drawn with a team of little atomies
Athwart men's noses as they lie asleep;
Her waggon-spokes made of long spinners' legs,
The cover of the wings of grasshoppers,
The traces of the smallest spider's web,
The collars of the moonshine's watery beams,
Her whip of cricket's bone, the lash of film,
Her waggoner a small grey-coated gnat,
Not half so big as a round little worm
Prick'd from the lazy finger of a maid;''
''A jest's prosperity lies in the earWilliam Shakespeare (1564-1616), British dramatist, poet. Rosaline, in Love's Labor's Lost, act 5, sc. 2, l. 861-3.
Of him that hears it, never in the tongue
Of him that makes it.''
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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 ...
Thus can my love excuse the slow offence
Of my dull bearer when from thee I speed:
From where thou art why should I haste me thence?
Till I return, of posting is no need.
O, what excuse will my poor beast then find,
When swift extremity can seem but slow?
Then should I spur, though mounted on the wind;
In winged speed no motion shall I know:
Then can no horse with my desire keep pace;