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William Shakespeare

English poet and dramatist considered one of the greatest English writers (1564-1616)

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'T is better to be lowly born, And range with humble livers in content, Than to be perked up in a glistering grief, And wear a golden sorrow.
'Tis neither here nor there.
A hit, a very palpable hit.
A horse a horse my kingdom for a horse
A jest's prosperity lies in the ear Of him that hears it, never in the tongue Of him that makes it.
A little more than kin, and less than kind.
A man in all the world's new fashion planted, That hath a mint of phrases in his brain.
A plague o' both your houses
A wretched soul, bruised with adversity, We bid be quiet when we hear it cry But were we burdened with like weight of pain, As much or more we should ourselves complain.
A wretched soul, bruised with adversity,
We bid be quiet when we hear it cry;
But were we burdened with like weight of pain,
As much or more we should ourselves complain.
Action is eloquence.
Age cannot wither her, nor custom stale Her infinite variety.
Age cannot wither her, nor custom staleHer infinite variety other women cloyThe appetites they feed, but she makes hungryWhere most she satisfies.
Alas, poor Yorick I knew him Horatio, a fellow of infinite jest, of most excellent fancy...
Alas, poor Yorick I knew him, Horatio a fellow of infinite jest, of most excellent fancy. He hath borne me on his back a thousand times and now, how abhorred in my imagination it is my gorge rises at it. Here hung those lips that I have kissed I know not how oft. Where be your gibes now your gambols, your songs your flashes of merriment, that were wont to set the table on a roar Not one now, to mock your own grinning Quite chap-fallen Now get you to my lady's chamber, and tell her, let her paint an inch thick, to this favour she must come.
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.
Although the last, not least.
An honest tale speeds best, being plainly told.
And many strokes, though with a little axe, Hew down and fell the hardest-timbered oak.
And oftentimes, to win us to our harm, The instruments of darkness tell us truths, Win us with honest trifles, to betray's In deepest consequence.
And since you know you cannot see yourself, so well as by reflection, I, your glass, will modestly discover to yourself, that of yourself which you yet know not of.
And since you know you cannot see yourself,
so well as by reflection, I, your glass,
will modestly discover to yourself,
that of yourself which you yet know not of.
And thus I clothe my naked villainy With old odd ends, stol'n forth of holy writ And seem a saint, when most I play the devil.
Angels and ministers of grace defend us.Be thou a spirit of health, or goblin damned,Bring with thee airs from heaven, or blasts from hell,Be thy intents wicked, or charitable,Thou com'st in such a questionable shape,That I will speak to thee.
As flies to wanton boys, are we to the godsThey kill us for their sport.
Assume a virtue, if you have it not.
Be great in act, as you have been in thought.
Be not afraid of greatness some are born great, some achieve greatness, and some have greatness thrust upon them.
Be thou as chaste as ice, as pure as snow, thou shalt not escape calumny. Get thee to a nunnery, go.
Beware Of entrance to a quarrel but being in, Bear't that the opposed may beware of thee. Give every man thy ear, but few thy voice Take each man's censure, but reserve thy judgment. Costly thy habit as thy purse can buy, But not express'd in fancy rich, not gaudy For the apparel oft proclaims the man.
Beware the ides of March.
Blow, blow, thou winter wind Thou art not so unkind, As man's ingratitude.
Brevity is the soul of wit.
But then I sigh, and with a piece of scripture,Tell them that God bids us do good for evil.And thus I clothe my naked villainyWith odd old ends stolen forth of holy writ,And seem I a saint, when most I play the Devil.
But to my mind, though I am native here And to the manner born, it is a custom More honoured in the breach than the observance.
But, for my own part, it was Greek to me.
But, soft what light through yonder window breaks It is the east, and Juliet is the sun.
By the pricking of my thumbs, Something wicked this way comes. Open, locks, Whoever knocks
Conversation should be pleasant without scurrility, witty without affectation, free without indecency, learned without conceitedness, novel without falsehood.
Cowards die many times before their deaths The valiant never taste of death but once. Of all the wonders that I yet have heard, It seems to me most strange that men should fear Seeing that death, a necessary end, Will come when it will come.
Cowards die many times before their deathsThe valiant never taste of death but once.
Cry Havoc, and let slip the dogs of war.
Double, double toil and trouble Fire burn, and cauldron bubble.
Each present joy or sorrow seems the chief.
Et tu, Brute
Every man has business and desire, Such as it is.
Excellent wretch Perdition catch my soul, But I do love thee and when I love thee not, Chaos is come again.
For 'tis the sport to have the engineer hoist with his own petard...
For aught that I could ever read, Could ever hear by tale or history, The course of true love never did run smooth.
For Brutus is an honourable man So are they all, all honourable men.
For he today that sheds his blood with me shall be my brother tomorrow.
For they are yet ear-kissing arguments.
Frailty, thy name is woman
Free from gross passion or of mirth or anger constant in spirit, not swerving with the blood, garnish'd and deck'd in modest compliment, not working with the eye without the ear, and but in purged judgement trusting neither Such and so finely bolted didst thou seem.
Friends, Romans, countrymen, lend me your ears I come to bury Caesar, not to praise him. The evil that men do lives after them The good is oft interred with their bones.
Friendship is constant in all other things Save in the office and affairs of love Therefore all hearts in love use their own tongues Let every eye negotiate for itself And trust no agent.
Give every man thine ear, but few thy voice take each man's censure but reserve thy judgement.
Glory is like a circle in the water, Which never ceaseth to enlarge itself, Till by broad spreading it disperses to naught.
Glory is like a circle in the water,
Which never ceaseth to enlarge itself,
Till by broad spreading it disperses to naught.
God bless thee and put meekness in thy mind, love, charity, obedience, and true duty
God bless thee; and put meekness in thy mind, love, charity, obedience, and true duty!
Good name in man and woman, dear my lord, Is the immediate jewel of their souls Who steals my purse steals trash 'tis something, nothing 'Twas mine, 'tis his, and has been slave to thousands But he that filches from me my good name Robs me of that which not enriches him And makes me poor indeed.
Good night, good night parting is such sweet sorrow, That I shall say good night till it be morrow.
Hamlet Do you see yonder cloud that's almost in shape of a camel Polonius By the mass, and 'tis like a camel, indeed. Hamlet Methinks it is like a weasel. Polonius It is backed like a weasel. Hamlet Or like a whale Polonius Very like a whale.
He draweth out the thread of his verbosity finer than the staple of his argument.
He hath eaten me out of house and home.
He is not great who is not greatly good.
He is winding the watch of his wit by and by it will strike.
He that is robb'd, not wanting what is stolen, Let him not know 't, and he's not robb'd at all.
He was a man, take him for all in all, I shall not look upon his like again.
He was my friend, faithful, and just to meBut Brutus says, he was ambitious,And Brutus is an honorable man.He hath brought many captives home to Rome,Whose ransoms did the general coffers fill.Did this in Caesar seem ambitiousWhen the poor have cried, Caesar hath wept.Ambition should me made of sterner stuff,Yet Brutus says, he was ambitiousAnd Brutus is an honorable man.
He wears his faith but as the fashion of his hat.
He who has injured thee was either stronger or weaker than thee. If weaker, spare him if stronger, spare thyself.
He who has injured thee was either stronger or weaker than thee. If weaker, spare him; if stronger, spare thyself.
Hereafter, in a better world than this, I shall desire more love and knowledge of you.
His life was gentle and the elements So mixed in him, that Nature might stand up, And say to all the world, THIS WAS A MAN
His life was gentle; and the elements
So mixed in him, that Nature might stand up,
And say to all the world, THIS WAS A MAN!
How far that little candle throws his beams So shines a good deed in a weary world.
How like a winter hath my absence been From thee, the pleasure of the fleeting year What freezings have I felt, what dark days seen, What old December's bareness everywhere
How many ages hence Shall this our lofty scene be acted over In states unborn and accents yet unknown
How poor are they who have not patience What wound did ever heal but by degrees.
How poor are they who have not patience! What wound did ever heal but by degrees.
How sharper than a serpent's tooth it is To have a thankless child
How use doth breed a habit in a man.
I am not bound to please thee with my answers.
I am not merry but I do beguile The thing I am, by seeming otherwise.
I am wealthy in my friends.
I did never know so full a voice issue from so empty a heart but the saying is true 'The empty vessel makes the greatest sound'.
I dote on his very absence.
I feel within me a peace above all earthly dignities, a still and quiet conscience.
I had rather have a fool make me merry, than experience make me sad.
I hate ingratitude more in a man than lying, vainness, babbling, drunkenness, or any taint of vice whose strong corruption inhabits our frail blood.
I hate ingratitude more in a man
than lying, vainness, babbling, drunkenness,
or any taint of vice whose strong corruption
inhabits our frail blood.
I have heard of your paintings too, well enough God has given you one face, and you make yourselves another.
I have Immortal longings in me.
I have not slept one wink.
I met a fool i' the forest, A motley fool.
I must be cruel only to be kind;
Thus bad begins, and worse remains behind.
I must be cruel, only to be kind Thus bad begins, and worse remains behind.
I must be cruel, only to be kind.
I pray thee cease thy counsel, Which falls into mine ears as profitless as water in a sieve.
I pray thee cease thy counsel,
Which falls into mine ears as profitless
as water in a sieve.
I pray you bear me henceforth from the noise and rumour of the field, where I may think the remnant of my thoughts in peace, and part of this body and my soul with contemplation and devout desires.
I thank God I am as honest as any man living that is an old man and no honester than I.
I understand a fury in your words, But not the words.
I wasted time, and now doth time waste me.
I will wear my heart upon my sleeve For daws to peck at.
I wish you all the joy you can wish.
I wish you well and so I take my leave, I Pray you know me when we meet again.
I wish you well and so I take my leave,
I Pray you know me when we meet again.
If all the year were playing holidays, To sport would be as tedious as to work.
If it were done when 'tis done, then 'twere well It were done quickly.
Ill deeds are doubled with an evil word.
In a false quarrel there is no true valour.
In false quarrels there is no true valor.
In peace there's nothing so becomes a man as modest stillness and humility.
In time we hate that which we often fear.
Is this a dagger which I see before me, The handle toward my hand Come, let me clutch thee. I have thee not, and yet I see thee still. Art thou not, fatal vision, sensible To feeling as to sight or art thou but A dagger of the mind, a false creation, Proceeding from the heat-oppressed brain
It is a kind of good deed to say well; and yet words are not deeds.
It is meant that noble minds keep ever with their likes; for who so firm that cannot be seduced.
It is not enough to help the feeble up, but to support him after.
It is not in the stars to hold our destiny but in ourselves.
It is the mind that makes the body rich; and as the sun breaks through the darkest clouds, so honor peereth in the meanest habit.
Jesters do often prove prophets.
Lady you berefit me of all words, Only my blood speaks to you in my veins, And there is such confusion in my powers.
Lady you bereft me of all words,
Only my blood speaks to you in my veins,
And there is such confusion in my powers.
Lay on, Macduff, And damn'd be him that first cries, Hold, enough
Leave her to heaven And to those thorns that in her bosom lodge, To prick and sting her.
Let me have men about me that are fat, Sleek-headed men, and such as sleep o' nights Yond Cassius has a lean and hungry look He thinks too much such men are dangerous.
Let the coming hour overflow with joy, and let pleasure drown the brim.
Life is a tale told by an idiot -- full of sound and fury, signifying nothing.
Life is as tedious as a twice-told tale Vexing the dull ear of a drowsy man.
Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player, that struts and frets his hour upon the stage And then is heard no more it is a tale Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, Signifying Nothing.
Like as the waves make towards the pebbled shore, So do our minutes hasten to their end.
Lord, what fools these mortals be
Love all, trust a few. Do wrong to none.
Love is not love that alters when it alteration finds.
Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind.
Men have died from time to time, and worms have eaten them, but not for love.
Mine honour is my life both grow in one take honour from me and my life is done.
Mine honour is my life; both grow in one; take honour from me and my life is done.
Misery acquaints a man with strange bedfellows.
My meaning in saying he is a good man, is to have you understand me that he is sufficient.
My salad days, When I was green in judgment.
My words fly up, my thoughts remain below Words without thoughts never to heaven go.
My words fly up, my thoughts remain below.
Words without thoughts never to heaven go.
Neither a borrower nor a lender be For loan oft loses both itself and friend, And borrowing dulls the edge of husbandry. This above all to thine own self be true, And it must follow, as the night the day, Thou canst not then be false to any man.
Niether a borrower nor a lender be.
No legacy is so rich as honesty.
No, 'tis slander, Whose edge is sharper than the sword, whose tongue Outvenoms all the worms of Nile, whose breath Rides on the posting winds, and doth belie All corners of the world.
Nothing emboldens sin so much as mercy.
Nothing will come of nothing.
Now cracks a noble heart. Good night sweet prince And flights of angels sing thee to thy rest
Now is the winter of our discontent Made glorious summer by this sun of York, And all the clouds that loured upon our house In the deep bosom of the ocean buried. Now are our brows bound with victorious wreaths, Our bruised arms hung up for monuments, Our stern alarums changed to merry meetings, Our dreadful marches to delightful measures. Grim-visaged war hath smoothed his wrinkled front And now, instead of mounting barbed steeds To fright the souls of fearful adversaries, He capers nimbly in a lady's chamber To the lascivious pleasing of a lute. But I, that am not shaped for sportive tricks, Nor made to court an amorous looking-glass I, that am rudely stamped, and want love's majesty To strut before a wanton ambling nymph I, that am curtailed of this fair proportion, Cheated of feature by dissembling nature, Deformed, unfinished, sent before my time Into this breathing world, scarce half made up, And that so lamely and unfashionable That dogs bark at me as I halt by them,-- Why, I, in this weak piping time of peace, Have no delight to pass away the time, Unless to spy my shadow in the sun.
Now join your hands, and with your hands your hearts.
O for a muse of fire, that would ascend the brightest heaven of invention.
O Romeo, Romeo wherefore art thou Romeo
O, beware, my lord, of jealousy It is the green-eyed monster which doth mock The meat it feeds on.
O, my offence is rank, it smells to heaven It hath the primal eldest curse upon 't, A brother's murder.
O, now, for ever Farewell the tranquil mind farewell content Farewell the plumed troop and the big wars That make ambition virtue O, farewell Farewell the neighing steed and the shrill trump, The spirit-stirring drum, the ear-piercing fife, The royal banner, and all quality, Pride, pomp, and circumstance of glorious war And, O you mortal engines, whose rude throats The immortal Jove's dread clamours counterfeit, Farewell Othello's occupation's gone
O, woe is me, To have seen what I have seen, see what I see
Oft expectation fails, and most oft where most it promises; and oft it hits where hope is coldest; and despair most sits.
Oh God, that men should put an enemy in their mouths to steal away their brains!
Oh, that way madness lies let me shun that.
Oh, thou hast a damnable iteration, and art indeed able to corrupt a saint. Thou hast done much harm upon me Hal, God forgive thee for it. Before I knew thee Hal, I knew nothing, and now am I, if a man should speak truly, little better than one of the wicked.
Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more, Or close the wall up with our English dead In peace there's nothing so becomes a man As modest stillness and humility But when the blast of war blows in our ears, Then imitate the action of the tiger Stiffen the sinews, summon up the blood.
Our bodies are our gardens to which our wills are gardeners.
Our doubts are traitors, and make us lose the good we oft might win by fearing to attempt.
Our doubts are traitors,And make us lose the good we oft might winBy fearing to attempt.
Our life, exempt from public haunt, finds tongues in trees, books in the running brooks, sermons in stones, and good in everything.
Our remedies oft in ourselves do lie.
Out, damned spot out, I say
Pity is the virtue of the law, and none but tyrants use it cruelly.
Pity is the virture of the law, and none but tyrants use it cruelly.
Praising what is lost makes the remembrance dear.
Pray you now, forget and forgive.
Reputation is an idle and most false imposition oft got without merit, and lost without deserving.
Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou, Romeo Deny thy father, and refuse thy name...
See first that the design is wise and just that ascertained, pursue it resolutely do not for one repulse forego the purpose that you resolved to effect.
See first that the design is wise and just: that ascertained, pursue it resolutely; do not for one repulse forego the purpose that you resolved to effect.
Self-loving is not so vile a sin, my liege, as self-neglecting.
Silence is the perfectest herald of joy I were but little happy, if I could say how much.
Simply the thing I am shall make me live.
Simply the thing that I am shall make me live.
Since Cleopatra died, I have liv'd in such dishonour that the gods Detest my baseness.
Small cheer and great welcome makes a merry feast.
Small to greater matters must give way.
So full of artless jealousy is guilt, It spills itself in fearing to be spilt.
So may he rest, his faults lie gently on him
So may he rest, his faults lie gently on him!
Some men never seem to grow old. Always active in thought, always ready to adopt new ideas, they are never chargeable with foggyism. Satisfied, yet ever dissatisfied, settled, yet ever unsettled, they always enjoy the best of what is, are the first to find the best of what will be.
Some rise by sin, and some by virtue fall.
Something is rotten in the state of Denmark.
Speak to me as to thy thinkings, As thou dost ruminate, and give thy worst of thoughts The worst of words.
Strong reasons make strong actions.
Suspicion always haunts the guilty mind.
Suspicion always haunts the guilty mind; the thief doth fear each bush an officer.
Sweet are the uses of adversity, which, like a toad, though ugly and venomous, wears yet a precious jewel in its head.
The attempt and not the deed Confounds us.
The course of true love never did run smooth.
The course of true love was never easy.
The devil hath power To assume a pleasing shape.
The earth has music for those who listen.
The fashion wears out more apparel than the man.
The fool doth think he is wise, but the wise man knows himself to be a fool.
The game is up.
The gaudy, blabbing, and remorseful day Is crept into the bosom of the sea.
The gods are just, and of our pleasant vices Make instruments to plague us.
The hand that hath made you fair hath made you good.
The lady doth protest too much, methinks.
The law hath not been dead, though it hath slept.
The little foolery that wise men have makes a great show.
The peace of heaven is theirs that lift their swords, in such a just an charitable war.
The peace of heaven is theirs that lift their swords, in such a just and charitable war.
The play's the thing Wherein I'll catch the conscience of the king.
The Possible's slow fuse is lit By the Imagination.
The quality of mercy is not strained It droppeth as the gentle rain from heaven Upon the place beneath. It is twice blessed- It blesseth him that gives, and him that takes.
The rest is silence.
The sands are number'd that make up my life.
The soul of this man is in his clothes.
The trust I have is in mine innocence, and therefore am I bold and resolute.
The trust I have is in mine innocence,
and therefore am I bold and resolute.
The worst is not So long as we can say, This is the worst.
Their understanding Begins to swell and the approaching tide Will shortly fill the reasonable shores That now lie foul and muddy.
Their understanding
Begins to swell and the approaching tide
Will shortly fill the reasonable shores
That now lie foul and muddy.
There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio,Than are dreamt of in your philosophy.
There is a tide in the affairs of men Which taken at the flood, leads on to fortune Omitted, all the voyage of their life Is bound in shallows and in miseries.
There is nothing either good or bad, but thinking makes it so.
There is occasions and causes why and wherefore in all things.
They have been at a great feast of languages, and stolen the scraps.
They say, best men are moulded out of faults, And, for the most, become much more the better For being a little bad.
This above all to thine own self be true.
This above all TO THINE OWN SELF BE TRUE. And it must follow as the night the day, thou canst not then be false to any man.
This bud of love, by summer's ripening breath, May prove a beauteous flower when next we meet.
This England never did, nor never shall, Lie at the proud foot of a conqueror.
This fellow's wise enough to play the fool, And to do that well craves a kind of wit.
This royal throne of kings, this sceptred isle, This earth of majesty, this seat of Mars, This other Eden, demi-paradise, This fortress built by Nature for herself Against infection and the hand of war, This happy breed of men, this little world, This precious stone set in the silver sea, Which serves it in the office of a wall Or as a moat defensive to a house, Against the envy of less happier lands,-- This blessed plot, this earth, this realm, this England.
Those that are good manners at the court are as ridiculous in the country, as the behavior of the country is most mockable at the court.
Thou art all the comfort, The Gods will diet me with.
Thou art all the comfort,
The Gods will diet me with.
Thou shalt be both the plaintiff and the judge of thine own cause.
Thou shouldst not have been old till thou hadst been wise.
Though I am not naturally honest, I am so sometimes by chance.
Though this be madness, yet there is method in 't.
Thoughts are but dreams till their effects be tried.
Thy words, I grant are bigger, for I wear not, my dagger in my mouth.
To be a well-flavored man is the gift of fortune, but to write or read comes by nature.
To be, or not to be that is the question Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune, Or to take arms against a sea of troubles, And by opposing end them To die to sleep No more and by a sleep to say we end The heartache and the thousand natural shocks That flesh is heir to,--'t is a consummation Devoutly to be wish'd. To die, to sleep To sleep perchance to dream ay, there's the rub For in that sleep of death what dreams may come, When we have shuffled off this mortal coil, Must give us pause there's the respect That makes calamity of so long life For who would bear the whips and scorns of time, The oppressor's wrong, the proud man's contumely, The pangs of despised love, the law's delay, The insolence of office and the spurns That patient merit of the unworthy takes, When he himself might his quietus make With a bare bodkin who would fardels bear, To grunt and sweat under a weary life, But that the dread of something after death, The undiscover'd country from whose bourn No traveller returns, puzzles the will And makes us rather bear those ills we have Than fly to others that we know not of Thus conscience does make cowards of us all And thus the native hue of resolution Is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought, And enterprises of great pith and moment With this regard their currents turn awry, And lose the name of action.
To business that we love, we rise betime and go to't with delight.
To climb steep hills requires slow pace at first.
To die, to sleep --To sleep, perchance to dream, ay there's the rub,For in that sleep of death what dreams may comeWhen we have shuffled off this mortal coil,Must give us pause there's the respectThat makes calamity of so long life.
To mourn a mischief that is past and gone Is the next way to draw new mischief on.
To thine own self be true -; And it must follow as the night the day; Thou canst not be false to any man
To Thine Ownself Be True
To wilful men, the injuries that they themselves procure must be their schoolmasters.
To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow, Creeps in this petty pace from day to day To the last syllable of recorded time, And all our yesterdays have lighted fools The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player That struts and frets his hour upon the stage And then is heard no more it is a tale Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, Signifying nothing.
True hope is swift, and flies with swallow's wings Kings it makes gods, and meaner creatures kings.
True is it that we have seen better days.
Truth is truth To the end of reckoning.
Uneasy lies the head that wears a crown.
Virtue and genuine graces in themselves speak what no words can utter.
We are advertis'd by our loving friends.
We do not keep the outward form of order, where there is deep disorder in the mind.
We know what we are, but know not what we may be.
We know what we are, but not what we may be.
What a deformed thief this fashion is.
What a piece of work is a man how noble in reason how infinite in faculty in form and moving how express and admirable in action how like an angel in apprehension how like a god
What's done can't be undone.
What's in a name That which we call a rose By any other name would smell as sweet.
What's mine is yours, and what is yours is mine.
When griping grief the heart doth wound, and doleful dumps the mind opresses, then music, with her silver sound, with speedy help doth lend redress.
When griping grief the heart doth wound,
and doleful dumps the mind opresses,
then music, with her silver sound,
with speedy help doth lend redress.
When he is best, he is a little worse than a man and when he is worst, he is little better than a beast.
When holy and devout religious men Are at their beads, 'tis hard to draw them thence So sweet is zealous contemplation.
When my love swears that she is made of truth, I do believe her, though I know she lies.
When sorrows come, they come not single spies, But in battalions.
When we are born, we cry, that we are come To this great stage of fools.
When we are born, we cry, that we are come
To this great stage of fools.
While thou livest keep a good tongue in thy head.
Yet do I fear thy nature It is too full o' the milk of human kindness.
You cram these words into mine ears against the stomach of my sense.
Your face is a book, where men may read strange matters.

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