William Shakespeare Quotes
''If thou dost slander her and torture me,William Shakespeare (1564-1616), British dramatist, poet. Othello, in Othello, act 3, sc. 3, l. 368-73. An ironic threat against Iago, since he does indeed slander Desdemona.
Never pray more; abandon all remorse;
On horror's head horrors accumulate;
Do deeds to make heaven weep, all earth amazed;
For nothing canst thou to damnation add
Greater than that.''
''I was not much afeard; for once or twiceWilliam Shakespeare (1564-1616), British dramatist, poet. Perdita, in The Winter's Tale, act 4, sc. 4, l. 442-6. As Polixenes separates her from Florizel, his son and heir to the throne.
I was about to speak, and tell him plainly,
The selfsame sun that shines upon his court
Hides not his visage from our cottage, but
Looks on alike.''
''The quality of mercy is not strained,William Shakespeare (1564-1616), British dramatist, poet. Portia, in The Merchant of Venice, act 4, sc. 1, l. 184-7. Inviting Shylock to be merciful; "strained" means forced or constrained.
It droppeth as the gentle rain from heaven
Upon the place beneath. It is twice blest:
It blesseth him that gives and him that takes.''
''"Who chooseth me must give and hazard all he hath."William Shakespeare (1564-1616), British dramatist, poet. Prince of Morocco, in The Merchant of Venice, act 2, sc. 7, l. 16-20. Reading the message he finds on the leaden casket.
Must givefor what? for lead, hazard for lead?
This casket threatens. Men that hazard all
Do it in hope of fair advantages;
A golden mind stoops not to shows of dross.''
''Now is the winter of our discontentWilliam Shakespeare (1564-1616), British dramatist, poet. Richard, in Richard III, act 1, sc. 1, l. 1-4 (1597). The play opens with Richard's soliloquy about his brother, now installed on the throne as Edward IV.
Made glorious by this son of York;
And all the clouds that loured upon our house
In the deep bosom of the ocean buried.''
''I was seven of the nine days out of the wonder before youWilliam Shakespeare (1564-1616), British dramatist, poet. Rosalind, in As You Like It, act 3, sc. 2, l. 174-5. Alluding to the proverb "a wonder lasts but nine days."
''O, had I but followed the arts!''William Shakespeare (1564-1616), British dramatist, poet. Sir Andrew Aguecheek, in Twelfth Night, act 1, sc. 3. Bemoaning the time he spent in "fencing, dancing, and bear-baiting."
''The common curse of mankind, folly and ignorance, be thine in great revenue!''William Shakespeare (1564-1616), British dramatist, poet. Thersites, in Troilus and Cressida, act 2, sc. 3, l. 27-9. Cursing Patroclus.
''We that are true lovers run into strange capers.''William Shakespeare (1564-1616), British dramatist, poet. Touchstone, in As You Like It, act 2, sc. 4, l. 50-1 (1623).
''When, in disgrace with fortune and men's eyes,William Shakespeare (1564-1616), British poet. When in disgrace with fortune and men's eyes (l. 1-14). . . The Unabridged William Shakespeare, William George Clark and William Aldis Wright, eds. (1989) Running Press.
I all alone beweep my outcast state,
And trouble deaf heaven with my bootless cries,
And look upon myself, and curse my fate,
Wishing me like to one more rich in hope,
Featured like him, like him with friends possessed,
Desiring this man's art, and that man's scope,
With what I most enjoy contented least;
Yet in these thoughts myself almost despising,
Haply I think on thee, and then my state,
Like to the lark at break of day arising
From sullen earth, sings hymns at heaven's gate;
For thy sweet love remembered such wealth brings
That then I scorn to change my state with kings.''
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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;