William Shakespeare Quotes
''Make me to see't, or at the least so prove itWilliam Shakespeare (1564-1616), British dramatist, poet. Othello, in Othello, act 3, sc. 3, l. 364-6. "Probation" means proof.
That the probation bear no hinge nor loop
To hang a doubt on.''
''Phebe. Good shepherd, tell this youth what 'tis to love.William Shakespeare (1564-1616), British dramatist, poet. Phebe and Silvius, in As You Like It, act 5, sc. 2, l. 83-98. A definition of love by the infatuated Silvius; "fantasy" means imagination.
Silvius. It is to be all made of sighs and tears.
It is to be all made of faith and service.
It is to be all made of fantasy,
All made of passion, and all made of wishes,
All adoration, duty, and observance,
All humbleness, all patience, and impatience,
All purity, all trial, all observance.''
''Is there no way for men to be, but womenWilliam Shakespeare (1564-1616), British dramatist, poet. Posthumus, in Cymbeline, act 2, sc. 5, l. 1-2. Beginning Posthumus's outburst of misogyny when he falsely believes Imogen to be unfaithful; "half-workers" means accessories, part responsible.
Must be half-workers?''
''The fringèd curtains of thine eye advance,William Shakespeare (1564-1616), British dramatist, poet. Prospero, in The Tempest, act 1, sc. 2, l. 409-10. "Advance" means lift up, implying Miranda has been demurely looking down; she now sees young Ferdinand.
And say what thou seest yond.''
''There is thy goldworse poison to men's souls,William Shakespeare (1564-1616), British poet. Romeo and Juliet (V, i). . . The Unabridged William Shakespeare, William George Clark and William Aldis Wright, eds. (1989) Running Press.
Doing more murder in this loathsome world
Than these poor compounds that thou mayst not sell.
I sell thee poison; thou hast sold me none.''
''Never aloneWilliam Shakespeare (1564-1616), British dramatist, poet. Rosencrantz, in Hamlet, act 3, sc. 3, l. 22-3. The obsequious courtier speaking to Claudius.
Did the King sigh, but with a general groan.''
''Ne'er ask me what raiment I'll wear, for I have no more doublets than backs, no more stockings than legs, nor no more shoes than feetnay, sometime more feet than shoes, or such shoes as my toes look through the overleather.''William Shakespeare (1564-1616), British dramatist, poet. Sly, in The Taming of the Shrew, Induction, sc. 2, l. 8-12. The drunkard, Sly, protests he has hardly any clothes.
''The master, the swabber, the boatswain and I,William Shakespeare (1564-1616), British poet. The Tempest (II, ii). . . The Unabridged William Shakespeare, William George Clark and William Aldis Wright, eds. (1989) Running Press.
The gunner and his mate,
Loved Mall, Meg, and Marian and Margery,
But none of us cared for Kate;
For she had a tongue with a tang,
Would cry to a sailor, 'Go hang!'
She loved not the savour of tar nor of pitch,
Yet a tailor might scratch her where'er she did itch:
Then to sea, boys, and let her go hang.''
''I'll haunt thee like a wicked conscience still.''William Shakespeare (1564-1616), British dramatist, poet. Troilus, in Troilus and Cressida, act 5, sc. 10, l. 28. Speaking of Achilles, who has slain the unarmed Hector.
''What's past and what's to come is strewed with husksWilliam Shakespeare (1564-1616), British dramatist, poet. Agamemnon, in Troilus and Cressida, act 4, sc. 5, l. 166-71. Greeting Hector with pleasure in a moment of truce, free from all insincerity or deviation from truth ("hollow bias-drawing").
And formless ruin of oblivion;
But in this extant moment, faith and truth,
Strained purely from all hollow bias-drawing,
Bids thee, with most divine integrity,
From heart of very heart, great Hector, welcome!''
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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