William Shakespeare Quotes

Now I perceive the devil understands Welsh.
And 'tis no marvel he is so humorous.
By'r Lady, read more

Now I perceive the devil understands Welsh.
And 'tis no marvel he is so humorous.
By'r Lady, he is a good musician.

I have seen the day of wrong through the little hole of
discretion, and I will right myself like read more

I have seen the day of wrong through the little hole of
discretion, and I will right myself like a soldier.

Blow, winds, and crack your cheeks. Rage, blow,
You cataracts and hurricanoes, spout
Till you have drenched read more

Blow, winds, and crack your cheeks. Rage, blow,
You cataracts and hurricanoes, spout
Till you have drenched our steeples, downed the cocks.

All things that are, Are with more spirit chased than enjoy'd. How like a younker or a prodigal The scarfed read more

All things that are, Are with more spirit chased than enjoy'd. How like a younker or a prodigal The scarfed bark puts from her native bay, Hugg'd and embraced by the strumpet wind! How like the prodigal doth she return, With over-weather'd ribs and ragged sails, Lean, rent, and beggar'd by the strumpet wind! -The Merchant of Venice. Act ii. Sc. 6.

Mercy but murders, pardoning those that kill.

Mercy but murders, pardoning those that kill.

If it be aught toward the general good,
Set honor in one eye and death i' th' other,
read more

If it be aught toward the general good,
Set honor in one eye and death i' th' other,
And I will look on both indifferently;
For let the gods so speed me as I love
The name of honor more than I fear death.

Thou art a soul in bliss; but I am bound
Upon a wheel of fire, that mine own tears
read more

Thou art a soul in bliss; but I am bound
Upon a wheel of fire, that mine own tears
Do scald me like molten lead.

His nature is too noble for the world: He would not flatter Neptune for his trident, Or Jove for 's read more

His nature is too noble for the world: He would not flatter Neptune for his trident, Or Jove for 's power to thunder. -Coriolanus. Act iii. Sc. 1.

For who would bear the whips and scorns of time,
Th' oppressor's wrong, the proud man's contumely
read more

For who would bear the whips and scorns of time,
Th' 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 th' unworthy takes,
When he himself might his quietus make
With a bare bodkin?

All days are nights to see till I see thee,
And nights bright days when dreams do show thee read more

All days are nights to see till I see thee,
And nights bright days when dreams do show thee to me.