Shakespeare Quotes - Page 5

And therefore, — since I cannot prove a lover,To entertain these fair well-spoken days, —I am determined to prove a villain,And hate the idle pleasures of these days.

They think thee mad? I'll show thou mad, my lord.

We will meet; and there we may rehearse mostobscenely and courageously.Shakespeare, Midsummer Night's Dream. Spoken by Bottom, Act I Sc. 2

There is not shortage of fault to be found amidst our stars.

O God, that I were a man! I would eat his heart in the marketplace.

He is indeed the true enchanter, whose spell operates, not upon the senses, but upon the imagination and the heart.

Love is holy.

If I could mimic the dynamic of any Shakespearean marriage, I’d choose to mimic the Macbeths—before the murder, ruthless ambition, and torturous descents into madness and death, that is.

...I know Shakespeare said art is holding up a mirror to nature- but you're actually bending and refracting it through your interior dialogue ...

To die, to sleep - To sleep, perchance to dream - ay, there's the rub,For in this sleep of death what dreams may come...

[Shakespeare} the word-coining genius, as if thought plunged into a sea of words and came up dripping

Frailty, thy name is human!

I have good reason to be content,for thank God I can read andperhaps understand Shakespeare to his depths.

such wanton, wild, and usual slips/ As are companions noted and most known/ To youth and liberty.

Everybody needs a career manager."- Lady Macbeth

To die, is to be banish'd from myself; And Silvia is myself: banish'd from her, Is self from self: a deadly banishment! What light is light, if Silvia be not seen? What joy is joy, if Silvia be not by? Unless it be to think that she is by, And feed upon the shadow of perfection.Except I be by Silvia in the night, There is no music in the nightingale; Unless I look on Silvia in the day, There is no day for me to look upon; She is my essence, and I leave to be, If I be not by her fair influence Foster'd, illumin'd, cherish'd, kept alive.

Then, were not summer's distillation leftA liquid prisoner pent in walls of glass,Beauty's effect with beauty were bereft,Nor it nor no remembrance what it was.But flowers distilled, though they with winter meet,Leese but their show; their substance still lives sweet.

He kills her in her own humor.

I remember the will said, 'May God thy gold refine.' That must be from the Bible.""Shakespeare," Turtle said. All quotations were either from the Bible or Shakespeare.

If there really is such a thing as turning in one's grave, Shakespeare must get a lot of exercise.

A southwest blow on ye and blister you all o'er!''The red plague rid you!''Toads, beetles, bats, light on you!''As wicked dew as e'er my mother brushed with raven's feather from unwholesome fen drop on you.''Strange stuff''Thou jesting monkey thou''Apes with foreheads villainous low''Pied ninny''Blind mole...' -The Caliban Curses

There's meaning in thy snores.

You speak an infinite deal of nothing.

But, masters, remember that I am an ass; though it be not written down, yet forget not that I am an ass.

Impressive, most impressive, worthy lad,Thine Obi-Wan hath taught thee well, and thouHast master'd all thy fears. Now, go! ReleaseThine anger, for thy hate alone can strikeMe down!

Affliction is enamoured of thy parts, And thou art wedded to calamity.

The curse of true love never did run smooth.

Shakespeare, in some sense, helped create the modern man, didn't he, his influence is that pervasive. He held the mirror up to nature, but he also created that mirror: so the image he created is the very one we hold ourselves up to.

Lucentio: I read that I profess, the Art of Love.Bianca: And may you prove, sir, master of your art!Lucentio: While you, sweet dear, prove mistress of my heart!

Educated men are so impressive!

THE PEN IS MIGHTIER THAN THE SWORD!!!!

My dull brain was wrought with things forgotten.

Sometimes...the hardest part about letting someone go is realizing that you were never meant to have them.

Would it help,” he asked gently, “to have a shoulder to cry on?” She fought to conceal how much the question unnerved her. “Thank you, but no.” Carefully she dropped the herbs into the kettle. “Crying is a waste of time.” “‘ To weep is to make less the depth of grief.’” “Is that a Romany saying?” “Shakespeare.

Alas, my lord, your wisdom is consumed in confidence.

Benedick: I protest I love thee.Beatrice: Why, then, God forgive me!Benedick: What offence, sweet Beatrice?Beatrice: You have stayed me in a happy hour: I was about toprotest I loved you.Benedick: And do it with all thy heart.Beatrice: I love you with so much of my heart that none is left to protest.

They died together; they'll always be remembered together. It's decided, once and for all. He was hers. The rumors don't matter; they'll fade...People may remember it was suicide, but my name won't be attached. It will just be two lovers, fused together forever.

Shakespeare's great."Duh. Shakespeare's cool, man.

O, that he were here to write me down an ass! But, masters, remember, that I am an ass; though it be not written down, yet forget not that I am an ass.

The ultimate paradox, of course, is that even though we're all going to die, we've all got to live in the meantime…

I have Shakespeared my Moliere to Tenessee, and I am Wild for Becket! But I got a little tired of the redundancy.

The wren goes to't

[Thine] face is not worth sunburning.

Oh, if Shakespeare says it, that's all right.

There is a tide in the affairs of men which, taken at the flood, leads on to fortune...” ― William Shakespeare, Julius Caesar

Ribs closing on his heart, Will battled internal sirens whose song he couldn’t yet decipher. During his childhood, ‘sin’ had been such an abstract word. It denoted getting your Sunday best dirty and torn, or lying to have your brother punished for things you’d done yourself. But now, on the cusp of adulthood, the word seemed to grow and change, to acquire terrifying shades of darkness. He was beginning to understand that there was more to it. That there were things the human body longed for that were infinitely worse than playing in mud and telling fibs.

Oh, Blimey O'Riley's pantyhose....What is the point of Shakespeare? I know he is a genius and so on, but he does rave on. 'What light doth through yonder window break?' It's the bloody moon, for God sake, Will, get a grip!

Be not lost So poorly in your thoughts.

Frequent suggestions were made during the course of the trial that the motives of the donor and the donees alike, in carrying out this transaction, were to escape death duties. I feel constrained to dispose once and for all of these suggestions by the short answer that the existence or otherwise of such motives is irrelevant, excep as evidence for or against the bona fides of the transactions. There is the highest authority for the proposition that, if a man can lawfully so order his affairs that the payment of revenue duties of any kind is reduced or avoided altogether, there is no legal objection to his doing so. Whatever may be thought as the the morality of such transactions in these times from the point of view of patriotism and public spirit, there is no ground for ignoring their legal effect, unless such transactions be proved to be amere sham, such as those falling within the words 'not bona fide' in the act of 1894, or the phrase 'artificial transaction' in the Finance Acts of more recent years.Attorney General vs. Goneril Albany in re the estate of King Lear, MORE LEGAL FICTIONS

By the time you have a platform for saying what you want, you’ve already become part of the system. It’s how it works.

It is permissible even for a dying hero to think before he dies how men will speak of him hereafter. His fame lasts perhaps two thousand years. And what are two thousand years? (asked Mr Ramsay ironically, staring at the hedge). What, indeed, if you look from a mountain top down the long wastes of the ages? The very stone one kicks with one’s boot will outlast Shakespeare.

Alack, there lies more peril in thine eyeThan twenty of their swords: look thou but sweet,And I am proof against their enmity.

Strike as thou didst at Caesar; for I know / When though didst hate him worst, thou loved’st him better / Than ever thou loved’st Cassius.

He was a philosopher, if you know what that was.’‘A man who dreams of fewer things than there are in heaven and earth,’ said the Savage promptly.‘Quite so…

This was going to be worse than the time I table danced in the diner in high school!

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.

For this new-married man approaching here,Whose salt imagination yet hath wrong'dYour well defended honour, you must pardonFor Mariana's sake: but as he adjudged your brother,--Being criminal, in double violationOf sacred chastity and of promise-breachThereon dependent, for your brother's life,--The very mercy of the law cries outMost audible, even from his proper tongue,'An Angelo for Claudio, death for death!'Haste still pays haste, and leisure answers leisure;Like doth quit like, and MEASURE still FOR MEASURE

What's the use trying to read Shakespeare, especially in one of those little paper editions whose pages get ruffled, or stuck together with sea-water?

What's in a name, anyway? That which we call a nose by any other name would still smell.

To be honest, as this world goes is to be one man picked out of ten thousand.Hamlet Act II, Scene II Lines 178-179