William Shakespeare Quotes
''He is the only man of Italy,William Shakespeare (1564-1616), British dramatist, poet. Hero, in Much Ado About Nothing, act 3, sc. 1, l. 92-3. Praising Benedick in the hope of making the listening Beatrice fall in love with him.
Always excepted my dear Claudio.''
''The Moorhowbeit that I endure him notWilliam Shakespeare (1564-1616), British dramatist, poet. Iago, in Othello, act 2, sc. 1, l. 288-91. Speaking to the audience about Othello.
Is of a constant, loving, noble nature,
And I dare think he'll prove to Desdemona
A most dear husband.''
''Shorten my days thou canst with sullen sorrow,William Shakespeare (1564-1616), British dramatist, poet. John of Gaunt Richard II, act 1, sc. 3, l. 227-30. To King Richard, who has just banished his son, Bolingbroke.
And pluck nights from me, but not lend a morrow;
Thou canst help time to furrow me with age,
But stop no wrinkle in his pilgrimage.''
''As I am a soldier,William Shakespeare (1564-1616), British dramatist, poet. King Henry, in Henry V, act 3, sc. 3, l. 5-6.
A name that in my thoughts becomes me best.''
''Presume not that I am the thing I was.''William Shakespeare (1564-1616), British dramatist, poet. King Henry V, in Henry IV, Part 2, act 5, sc. 5, l. 56. Marking the change in him now he is King.
''Your face, my thane, is as a book, where menWilliam Shakespeare (1564-1616), British dramatist, poet. Lady Macbeth, in Macbeth, act 1, sc. 5, l. 62-3. Speaking to her husband; thanes were Scottish noblemen.
May read strange matters.''
''The night has been unruly. Where we lay,William Shakespeare (1564-1616), British dramatist, poet. Lennox, in Macbeth, act 2, sc. 3, l. 54-9. Describing the night of Duncan's murder; "combustion" means tumult.
Our chimneys were blown down, and, as they say,
Lamentings heard i' th' air, strange screams of death,
And prophesying with accents terrible
Of dire combustion and confused events,
New-hatched to the woeful time.''
''I 'gin to be aweary of the sun,William Shakespeare (1564-1616), British dramatist, poet. Macbeth, in Macbeth, act 5, sc. 5, l. 48-9. "'Gin" means begin; "th' estate o' the world" means the condition or fixed order of the universe.
And wish th' estate o' the world were now undone.''
''He does smile his face into more lines than is in the new map with the augmentation of the Indies.''William Shakespeare (1564-1616), British dramatist, poet. Maria, in Twelfth Night, act 3, sc. 2, l. 78-80. On Malvolio, referring to the mew Mercator map of 1600, showing the East Indies in full.
''Not mine own fears nor the prophetic soulWilliam Shakespeare (1564-1616), British poet. Not mine own fears nor the prophetic soul (l. 1-14). . . The Unabridged William Shakespeare, William George Clark and William Aldis Wright, eds. (1989) Running Press.
Of the wide world dreaming on things to come
Can yet the lease of my true love control,
Supposed as forfeit to a confined doom.
The mortal moon hath her eclipse endured,
And the sad augurs mock their own presage,
Incertainties now crown themselves assured,
And peace proclaims olives of endless age.
Now with the drops of this most balmy time
My love looks fresh, and death to me subscribes,
Since, spite of him, I'll live in this poor rhyme,
While he insults o'er dull and speechless tribes:
And thou in this shalt find thy monument,
When tyrants' crests and tombs of brass are spent.''
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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;