William Shakespeare

(26 April 1564 - 23 April 1616 / Warwickshire)

William Shakespeare Quotes

  • ''If it do come to pass
    That any man turn ass,
    Leaving his wealth and ease
    A stubborn will to please,
    Ducdame, ducdame, ducdame!
    Here shall he see
    Gross fools as he,
    And if he will come to me.''
    William Shakespeare (1564-1616), British dramatist, poet. Jaques, in As You Like It, act 2, sc. 5, l. 50-7. His ridicule of the pastoral life so idealized by the Duke and Amiens.
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  • ''Now, neigbour confines, purge you of your scum!
    Have you a ruffian that will swear, drink, dance,
    Revel the night, rob, murder, and commit
    The oldest sins the newest kind of ways?''
    William Shakespeare (1564-1616), British dramatist, poet. King Henry, in Henry IV, pt. 2, act 4, sc. 3.
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  • ''Read o'er this,
    And after this, and then to breakfast with
    What appetite you have.''
    William Shakespeare (1564-1616), British dramatist, poet. King Henry, in Henry VIII, act 3, sc. 2, l. 201-3. Henry hands Wolsey documents proving his disloyalty to the King.
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  • ''But whate'er I be,
    Nor I, nor any man that but man is,
    With nothing shall be pleased till he be eased
    With being nothing.''
    William Shakespeare (1564-1616), British dramatist, poet. King Richard, in Richard II, act 5, sc. 5, l. 38-41. Brooding in prison that he cannot be content with having nothing until he is nothing, i.e., dead.
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  • ''O, let me not be mad, not mad, sweet heaven!
    Keep me in temper, I would not be mad!''
    William Shakespeare (1564-1616), British dramatist, poet. Lear, in King Lear, act 1, sc. 5, l. 46-7.
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  • ''If bawdy talk offend you, we'll have very little of it.''
    William Shakespeare (1564-1616), British dramatist, poet. Lucio, in Measure for Measure, act 4, sc. 4, l. 178-9. To the Duke, who is trying to get rid of him.
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  • ''Each new morn
    New widows howl, new orphans cry, new sorrows
    Strike heaven on the face.''
    William Shakespeare (1564-1616), British dramatist, poet. Macduff, in Macbeth, act 4, sc. 3, l. 4-6. On the affliction Macbeth has brought to Scotland.
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  • ''The language I have learnt these forty years,
    My native English, now I must forgo,
    And now my tongue's use is to me no more
    Than an unstringèd viol or a harp.''
    William Shakespeare (1564-1616), British dramatist, poet. Mowbray, in Richard II, act 1, sc. 3, l. 159-62. On being banished to foreign parts; a "viol" was the forerunner of the modern violin.
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  • ''Orlando. Who stays it still withal?
    Rosalind. With lawyers in the vacation; for they sleep
    between term and term, and then they perceive not how Time
    moves.''
    William Shakespeare (1564-1616), British dramatist, poet. Orlando and Rosalind, in As You Like It, act 3, sc. 2, l. 330-3. On the perception of time, mocking lawyers.
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  • ''O curse of marriage,
    That we can call these delicate creatures ours
    And not their appetites! I had rather be a toad,
    And live upon the vapour of a dungeon
    Than keep a corner in the thing I love
    For others' uses.''
    William Shakespeare (1564-1616), British dramatist, poet. Othello, in Othello, act 3, sc. 3, l. 272-7 (1623).
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Best Poem of William Shakespeare

Shall I Compare Thee To A Summer's Day? (Sonnet 18)

Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?
Thou art more lovely and more temperate.
Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,
And summer's lease hath all too short a date.
Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines,
And often is his gold complexion dimmed;
And every fair from fair sometime declines,
By chance, or nature's changing course, untrimmed;
But thy eternal summer shall not fade,
Nor lose possession of that fair thou ow'st,
Nor shall death brag thou wand'rest in his shade,
When in eternal lines to Time thou grow'st.
So long as men can breathe, or ...

Read the full of Shall I Compare Thee To A Summer's Day? (Sonnet 18)

Sonnet Cviii

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

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