William Shakespeare Quotes
''If the quick fire of youth light not your mind,William Shakespeare (1564-1616), British dramatist, poet. Bertram, in All's Well That Ends Well, act 4, sc. 2, l. 5-9. Bertram, married to Helena, attempts to seduce the chast e Diana.
You are no maiden, but a monument.
When you are dead, you should be such a one
As you are now; for you are cold and stern.''
''Brutus had rather be a villagerWilliam Shakespeare (1564-1616), British dramatist, poet. Brutus, in Julius Caesar, act 1, sc. 2, l. 172-5.
Than to repute himself a son of Rome
Under these hard conditions as this time
Is like to lay upon us.''
''If we shall stand stillWilliam Shakespeare (1564-1616), British dramatist, poet. Cardinal Wolsey, in Henry VIII, act 1, sc. 2, l. 85-8. On hearing of complaints made about his use of power; "motion" = proposals, actions.
In fear our motion will be mocked or carped at,
We should take root here where we sit, or sit
''Can this cockpit holdWilliam Shakespeare (1564-1616), British dramatist, poet. Chorus, in Henry V, prologue, l. 11-4. The "wooden O" refers to multi-sided theaters like the Globe, where Shakespeare's plays were staged; "casques" means helmets.
The vasty fields of France? Or may we cram
Within this wooden O the very casques
That did affright the air at Agincourt?''
''Sir, you and I must part, but that's not it;William Shakespeare (1564-1616), British dramatist, poet. Cleopatra, in Antony and Cleopatra, act 1, sc. 3, l. 87-8. Movingly suggesting what cannot be expressed.
Sir, you and I have loved, but there's not it;''
''All the faith, the virtue of my heart,William Shakespeare (1564-1616), British dramatist, poet. Demetrius, in A Midsummer Night's Dream, act 4, sc. 1, l. 169-71.
The object and the pleasure of mine eye,
Is only Helena.''
''Lord Angelo is precise,William Shakespeare (1564-1616), British dramatist, poet. Duke, in Measure for Measure, act 1, sc. 3, l. 50-4. He knows Angelo as puritanical ("precise"), and anxious about his reputation ("at a guard with envy").
Stands at a guard with envy, scarce confesses
That his blood flows, or that his appetite
Is more to bread than stone. Hence shall we see
If power change purpose, what our seemers be.''
''Falstaff. What wind blew you hither, Pistol?William Shakespeare (1564-1616), British dramatist, poet. Falstaff and Pistol, in Henry IV, Part 2, act 5, sc. 3, l. 85-6. Pistol brings news that Prince Henry is now King, bending the proverb, "it's an ill wind that blows no man good."
Pistol. Not the ill wind which blows no man to good.''
''Not a flower, not a flower sweetWilliam Shakespeare (1564-1616), British dramatist, poet. Feste, in Twelfth Night, act 2, sc. 4, l. 59-66. The image of sexual consummation as "dying" here passes into a reminder of death. Indeed.
On my black coffin let there be strewn.
Not a friend, not a friend greet
My poor corpse, where my bones shall be thrown.
A thousand thousand sighs to save,
Lay me, O, where
Sad true lover never find my grave,
To weep there.''
''Making such difference 'twixt wake and sleepWilliam Shakespeare (1564-1616), British dramatist, poet. Glendower, in Henry IV, Part 1, act 3, sc. 1, l. 216-9. Translating his daughter's words to her husband, who says she will sing him almost to sleep.
As is the difference betwixt day and night
The hour before the heavenly-harnessed team
Begins his golden progress in the east.''
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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;