William Shakespeare#3 on top 500 poets
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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O Mistress Mine, Where Are You Roaming? (Twelfth Night, Act Ii, Scene Iii)
O mistress mine, where are you roaming?
O stay and hear! your true-love's coming
That can sing both high and low;
Trip no further, pretty sweeting,
Journey's end in lovers' meeting-
Every wise man's son doth know.
What is love? 'tis not hereafter;
Present mirth hath present laughter;
What's to come is still unsure:
In delay there lies no plenty,-
Then come kiss me, Sweet and twenty,
Youth's a stuff will not endure.
Thy glass will show thee how thy beauties wear,
Thy dial how thy precious minutes waste;
The vacant leaves thy mind's imprint will bear,
And of this book this learning mayst thou taste.
The wrinkles which thy glass will truly show
Of mouthed graves will give thee memory;
Thou by thy dial's shady stealth mayst know
Time's thievish progress to eternity.
Look, what thy memory can not contain