William Shakespeare Quotes

Ten day ago I drowned these news in tears;
And now, to add more measure to your woes,
read more

Ten day ago I drowned these news in tears;
And now, to add more measure to your woes,
I come to tell you things sith then befallen.

O, beware, my lord, of jealousy!
It is the green-eyed monster, which doth mock
The meat it read more

O, beware, my lord, of jealousy!
It is the green-eyed monster, which doth mock
The meat it feeds on. That cuckold lives in bliss
Who, certain of his fate, loves not his wronger;
But O, what damned minutes tells he o'er
Who dotes, yet doubts--suspects, yet strongly loves!

One draught above heat makes him a fool; the second mads him; and a third drowns him. -Twelfth Night. Act read more

One draught above heat makes him a fool; the second mads him; and a third drowns him. -Twelfth Night. Act i. Sc. 5.

Virtue is bold, and goodness never fearful. -Measure for Measure. Act iii. Sc. 1.

Virtue is bold, and goodness never fearful. -Measure for Measure. Act iii. Sc. 1.

Now, ye familiar spirits that are culled
Out of the powerful legions under earth,
Help me this read more

Now, ye familiar spirits that are culled
Out of the powerful legions under earth,
Help me this once, that France may get the field.

Here comes the lady. O, so light a foot
Will ne'er wear out the everlasting flint.

Here comes the lady. O, so light a foot
Will ne'er wear out the everlasting flint.

Confess yourself to heaven,
Repent what's past, avoid what is to come,
And do not spread the read more

Confess yourself to heaven,
Repent what's past, avoid what is to come,
And do not spread the compost on the weeds
To make them ranker.

Fair flowers that are not gather'd in their prime rot and consume themselves in little time.

Fair flowers that are not gather'd in their prime rot and consume themselves in little time.

From you have I been absent in the spring,
When proud-pied April, dressed in all his trim,
read more

From you have I been absent in the spring,
When proud-pied April, dressed in all his trim,
Hath put a spirit of youth in everything,
That heavy Saturn laughed and leapt with him;
Yet nor the lays of birds, not the sweet smell
Of different flowers in odor and in hue,
Could make me any summer's story tell,
Or from their proud lap pluck them where they grew:
Nor did I wonder at the lily's white,
Nor praise the deep vermilion in the rose;
They were but sweet, but figures of delight,
Drawn after you, you pattern of all those.
Yet seemed it winter still, and you away,
As with your shadow I with these did play.

The setting sun, and music at the close, As the last taste of sweets, is sweetest last, Writ in remembrance read more

The setting sun, and music at the close, As the last taste of sweets, is sweetest last, Writ in remembrance more than things long past. -King Richard II. Act ii. Sc. 1.