William Shakespeare Quotes

Bleed, bleed, poor Country!
Great tyranny, lay thou thy basis sure,
For goodness dare not check thee; read more

Bleed, bleed, poor Country!
Great tyranny, lay thou thy basis sure,
For goodness dare not check thee; wear thou thy wrongs,
The title is affeered!

Have you the heart? When your head did but ache,
I knit my handkercher about your brows--
read more

Have you the heart? When your head did but ache,
I knit my handkercher about your brows--
The best I had, a princess wrought it me--
And I did never ask it you again;
And with my hand at midnight held your head,
And like the watchful minutes to the hour,
Still and anon cheered up the heavy time,
Saying, 'What lack you?' and 'Where lies your grief?'

If it be true that good wine needs no bush, 'tis true that a good
play needs no epilogue.

If it be true that good wine needs no bush, 'tis true that a good
play needs no epilogue.

His legs bestrid the ocean: his reared arm
Crested the world: his voice was propertied
As all read more

His legs bestrid the ocean: his reared arm
Crested the world: his voice was propertied
As all the tuned spheres, and that to friends;
But when he meant to quail and shake the orb,
He was as rattling thunder.

Love sought is good, but given unsought, is better.

Love sought is good, but given unsought, is better.

Let but the commons hear this testament,
Which (pardon me) I do not mean to read,
And read more

Let but the commons hear this testament,
Which (pardon me) I do not mean to read,
And they would go and kiss dead Caesar's wounds
And dip their napkins in his sacred blood;
Yea, beg a hair of him for memory,
And dying, mention it within their wills,
Bequeathing it as a rich legacy
Upon their issue.

We have scorched the snake, not killed it.
She'll close and be herself, whilst our poor malice
read more

We have scorched the snake, not killed it.
She'll close and be herself, whilst our poor malice
Remains in danger of her former tooth.

Thy deathbed is no lesser than thy land,
Wherein thou liest in reputation sick;
And thou, too read more

Thy deathbed is no lesser than thy land,
Wherein thou liest in reputation sick;
And thou, too careless patient as thou art,
Committ'st thy anointed body to the cure
Of those physicians that first wounded thee.

Simply the thing I am shall make me live.

Simply the thing I am shall make me live.

(Olivia:) What's a drunken man like, fool?
(Clown:) Like a drowned man, a fool, and a madman. One draught read more

(Olivia:) What's a drunken man like, fool?
(Clown:) Like a drowned man, a fool, and a madman. One draught
above heat makes him a fool, the seconds mads him, and a third
drowns him.