William Shakespeare Quotes
'''Tis not your inky brows, your black silk hair,William Shakespeare (1564-1616), British dramatist, poet. Rosalind, in As You Like It, act 3, sc. 5, l. 46-8. Rejecting Phebe's love; bugles were shiny black glass beads.
Your bugle eyeballs, nor your cheek of cream
That can entame my spirits to your worship.''
''Sir Andrew Aguecheek. Before me, she's a good wench.William Shakespeare (1564-1616), British dramatist, poet. Sir Andrew Aguecheek and Sir Toby Belch, in Twelfth Night, act 2, sc. 3, l. 178-81. They speak of Maria; a "beagle" means a small, intelligent hunting dog; Sir Andrew has his moment of pathos.
Sir Toby Belch. She's a beagle true bred, and one that adores me. What o' that?
Sir Andrew Aguecheek. I was adored once, too.''
''My beauty, though but mean,William Shakespeare (1564-1616), British dramatist, poet. The Princess, in Love's Labor's Lost, act 2, sc. 1, l. 13-15. Rejecting Boyet's flattery of her.
Needs not the painted flourish of your praise.
Beauty is bought by judgment of the eye.''
''As the ox hath his bow, sir, the horse his curb, and theWilliam Shakespeare (1564-1616), British dramatist, poet. Touchstone, in As You Like It, act 3, sc. 3, 79-82. On his desire to marry; bow means yoke.
falcon her bells, so man hath his desires; and as pigeons
bill, so wedlock would be nibbling.''
''When I consider every thing that growsWilliam Shakespeare (1564-1616), British poet. When I consider everything that grows (l. 1-14). . . The Unabridged William Shakespeare, William George Clark and William Aldis Wright, eds. (1989) Running Press.
Holds in perfection but a little moment,
That this huge stage presenteth naught but shows
Whereon the stars in secret influence comment;
When I perceive that men as plants increase,
Cheered and checked even by the self-same sky,
Vaunt in their youthful sap, at height decrease,
And wear their brave state out of memory:
Then the conceit of this inconstant stay
Sets you most rich in youth before my sight.
Where wasteful Time debateth with Decay,
To change your day of youth to sullied night;
And all in war with Time for love of you,
As he takes from you, I engraft you new.''
''I see your brows are full of discontent,William Shakespeare (1564-1616), British dramatist, poet. Abbot of Westminster, in Richard II, act 4, sc. 1, l. 332-3. Speaking to the deposed King Richard's supporters.
Your hearts of sorrow, and your eyes of tears.''
''I hold the world but as the world, Gratiano,William Shakespeare (1564-1616), British dramatist, poet. Antonio, in The Merchant of Venice, act 1, sc. 1, l. 77-9. Citing the proverb, "The world's a stage, and every man plays his part."
A stage, where every man must play a part,
And mine a sad one.''
''Believe me, I am passing light in spirit.''William Shakespeare (1564-1616), British dramatist, poet. Archbishop of York, in Henry IV, Part 2, act 4, sc. 2, l. 85. "Passing" means exceedingly.
''O, this lifeWilliam Shakespeare (1564-1616), British dramatist, poet. Belarius, in Cymbeline, act 3, sc. 3, l. 21-4. Contrasting a simple country life with life at the king's court; "attending for a check" means doing service only for a rebuke.
Is nobler than attending for a check;
Richer than doing nothing for a bauble;
Prouder than rustling in unpaid-for silk.''
''Brutus. How many times shall Caesar bleed in sport,William Shakespeare (1564-1616), British dramatist, poet. Brutus and Cassius, in Julius Caesar, act 3, sc. 1, l. 114-8. Caesar's body is supposed to have fallen at the base of the statue of his old enemy, Pompey.
That now on Pompey's basis lies along,
No worthier than the dust!
Cassius. So oft as that shall be,
So often shall the knot of us be called
The men that gave their country liberty.''
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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;