Quotes of All Topics . Occasions . Authors
Murder most foul, as in the best it it; But this most foul, strange, and unnatural.
Gnarling sorrow hath less power to bite The man that mocks at it and sets it light.
Friendship is constant in all other things, save in the office and affairs of love.
Mine honour is my life; both grow in one; Take honour from me, and my life is done.
Shine out fair sun, till I have bought a glass, That I may see my shadow as I pass.
Send danger from the east unto the west, so honor cross it from the north to south.
I had rather chop this hand off at a blow, And with the other fling it at thy face.
What to ourselves in passion we propose, The passion ending, doth the purpose lose.
Give thanks for what you are today and go on fighting for what you gone be tomorrow
Two lovely berries moulded on one stem; So, with two seeming bodies, but one heart.
Tremble, thou wretch, That hast within thee undivulged crimes Unwhipped of justice.
This passion, and the death of a dear friend, would go near to make a man look sad.
Out, damned spot! out, I say! One: two: why, then 'tis time to do't. Hell is murky!
O heaven! that one might read the book of fate, and see the revolution of the times.
Let never day nor night unhallowed pass, but still remember what the Lord hath done.
Like a dull actor now, I have forgot my part, and I am out, Even to a full disgrace.
Love is my sin, and thy dear virtue hate, Hate of my sin, grounded on sinful loving.
He that is strucken blind can not forget the precious treasure of his eyesight lost.
Cheerily to sea; the signs of war advance: No king of England, if not king of France
She will die if you love her not, And she will die ere she might make her love known
The king hath note of all that they intend, by interception which they dream not of.
If I lose my honor, I lose myself: better I were not yours Than yours so branchless.
For a noble heart, the most precious gift becomes poor, when the giver stops loving.
Such is my love, to thee I so belong, That for thy right myself will bear all wrong.
Mechanic slaves With greasy aprons, rules, and hammers, shall Uplift us to the view.
Bear with my weakness. My old brain is troubled. Be not disturbed with my infirmity.
Love's mind of judgment rarely hath a taste: Wings and no eyes figure unheedy haste.
...too much sadness hath congealed your blood,And melancholy is the nurse of frenzy.
Great men may jest with saints; 'tis wit in them; But, in the less foul profanation.
If I can catch him once upon the hip, I will feed fat the ancient grudge I bear him.
To sue to live, I find I seek to die; And, seeking death, find life: let it come on.
Set honour in one eye and death i' the other, And I will look on both indifferently.
The pow'r that I have on you is to spare you; The malice towards you to forgive you.
While he was drunk asleep, or in his rage, or in the incestuous pleasure of his bed.
I must to the barber's, monsieur, for methinks I am marvellous hairy about the face.
Here comes a man of comfort, whose advice Hath often stilled my brawling discontent.
Don't judge a man's conscience by looking at his face cause he may have a bad heart.
She cannot love, nor take no shape nor project or affection, she is so self-endeared
So many miseries have craz'd my voice, That my woe-wearied tongue is still and mute.
Trifles light as air are to the jealous confirmations strong as proofs of holy writ.
Fear and niceness, the handmaids of all women, or more truly, woman its pretty self.
If thou dost seek to have what thou dost hide, By self-example mayst thou be denied.
Never durst poet touch a pen to write Until his ink were temper'd with Love's sighs.
You have too much respect upon the world; They lose it that do buy it with much care
There is no sure foundation set on blood, No certain life achieved by others' death.
There is some soul of goodness in things evil, Would men observingly distill it out.
Then with the losers let it sympathize, For nothing can seem foul to those that win.
How much salt water thrown away in waste/ To season love, that of it doth not taste.
My charity is outrage, life my shame; And in that shame still live my sorrow's rage!
Strong reasons make strong actions let us go If you say ay, the king will not say no.