William Shakespeare Quotes

Fie, fie upon her!
There's language in her eye, her cheek, her lip;
Nay, her foot speaks. read more

Fie, fie upon her!
There's language in her eye, her cheek, her lip;
Nay, her foot speaks. Her wanton spirits look out
At every joint and motive of her body.

I see, the jewel best enamelled
Will lose his beauty; yet the gold bides still
That others read more

I see, the jewel best enamelled
Will lose his beauty; yet the gold bides still
That others touch, and often touching will
Wear gold; and no man that hath a name,
By falsehood and corruption doth it shame.

See what a rent the envious Casca made.

See what a rent the envious Casca made.

So smooth he daubed his vice with show of virtue
That, his apparent open guilt omitted--
I read more

So smooth he daubed his vice with show of virtue
That, his apparent open guilt omitted--
I mean, his conversation with Shore's wife--
He lived from all attainder of suspects.

Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon,
Who is already sick and pale with grief
That read more

Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon,
Who is already sick and pale with grief
That thou her maid art far more fair than she.
Be not her maid, since she is envious.
Her vestal livery is but sick and green,
And none but fools do wear it. Cast it off.

Praise her but for this her without-door form--
Which on my faith deserves high speech--and straight
The read more

Praise her but for this her without-door form--
Which on my faith deserves high speech--and straight
The shrug, the hum or ha, these pretty brands
That calumny doth use--O, I am out,
That mercy does, for calumny will sear
Virtue itself--these shrugs, these hums and ha's,
When you have said she's goodly, come between
Ere you can say she's honest.

Then get thee gone and dig my grave thyself,
And bid the merry bells ring to thine ear
read more

Then get thee gone and dig my grave thyself,
And bid the merry bells ring to thine ear
That thou are crowned, not that I am dead.

Some rise by sin, and some by virtue fall

Some rise by sin, and some by virtue fall

My lungs began to crow like chanticleer, That fools should be so deep-contemplative; And I did laugh sans intermission An read more

My lungs began to crow like chanticleer, That fools should be so deep-contemplative; And I did laugh sans intermission An hour by his dial. -As You Like It. Act ii. Sc. 7.

Good Gertrude, set some watch over your son.--
This grave shall have a living monument.
An hour read more

Good Gertrude, set some watch over your son.--
This grave shall have a living monument.
An hour of quiet shortly shall we see;
Till then in patience our proceeding be.