Quotes of All Topics . Occasions . Authors
Many a good hanging prevents a bad marriage.
My salad days, When I was green in judgment.
In right and service to their noble country.
Do all men kill the things they do not love?
Out of my sight! Thou dost infect mine eyes.
Free from gross passion or of mirth or anger
Desire of having is the sin of covetousness.
If you have tears, prepare to shed them now.
Pain pays the income of each precious thing.
There's place and means for every man alive.
We must every one be a man of his own fancy.
Unnatural deeds do breed unnatural troubles.
Men's faults do seldom to themselves appear.
Virtue itself scapes not calumnious strokes.
I hold the world but as the world, Gratiano!
Men at some time are masters of their fates.
Thy wish was father, Harry, to that thought.
Beauty too rich for use, for earth too dear.
And too soon Marred are those so early Made.
Sweets grown common lose their dear delight.
To mingle friendship far is mingling bloods.
Oh, that way madness lies; let me shun that.
Every man has his fault, and honesty is his.
Drown thyself? Drown cats and blind puppies.
Great floods have flown From simple sources.
in black ink my love may still shine bright.
Madness in great ones must not unwatched go.
Too much to know is to know naught but fame.
One sees more devils than vast hell can hold
All love's pleasure shall not match its woe.
The wound of peace is surety, Surety secure.
Where hateful Death put on his ugliest mask.
Never shame to hear what you have nobly done
Ten kisses short as one, one long as twenty.
Comfort's in heaven, and we are on the earth
Sleep, that sometimes shuts up sorrow's eye.
Something is rotten in the state of Denmark.
If there is a good will, there is great way.
Now I am past all comforts here, but prayer.
I wonder men dare trust themselves with men.
Blind is his love, and best befits the dark.
So well thy words become thee as thy wounds.
How is it that the clouds still hang on you?
Men of few words are the best men." (3.2.41)
Muster your wits; stand in your own defence.
Our holy lives must win a new world's crown.
And flights of angels sing thee to thy rest!
Woe to that land that's governed by a child.
We will have rings and things and fine array
Mercy but murders, pardoning those that kill.