We've found 9 quotes and 4 authors for 'pale' (0.194 seconds):

Authors: Barbara Paley • Grace Paley • William F. Buckley Jr., "The Wit and Wisdom of Vlad the Impaler" • William Paley

Movies: Pale Rider (1985) • Paleface (1922) • Paleface (1948) • Spenser: Pale Kings and Princes (1994) • Strada principale (2001)

"A body without wine is like a dessert without sugar. A pale woman can only be coloured with lipstick and rouge, and a pale man can only be coloured with wine!" »Mehmet Murat ildan
"It is not these well-fed long-haired men that I fear, but the pale and the hungry-looking." »Julius Caesar
"The Joker Tell me something, my friend. You ever dance with the devil by the pale moonlight" »Batman
"pale death knocks with impartial foot at poor men's hovels and king's palaces." »Horace
"pale Death with impartial tread beats at the poor man's cottage door and at the palaces of kings." »Horace
"On the whole, age comes more gently to those who have some doorway into an abstract world-art, or philosophy, or learning-regions where the years are scarcely noticed and the young and old can meet in a pale truthful light." »Freya Stark
"We are the music makers, and we are the dreamers of the dream. Wandering by lone sea breakers, and sitting by desolate streams. World losers and world forsakers, for whom the pale moon gleams. Yet we are movers and the shakers of the world forever it seems." »Arthur O'Shaunessey
"A moss which leaves its ocean becomes pale and dries up and a man which leaves his mother country is a moss which leaves it ocean!" »Mehmet Murat ildan
"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." »William Shakespeare
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