Shakespeare Quotes

When we can't understand the science behind something in this world, we make up mythological entities that we can relate to. We personify the forces of nature that mystify us, using our boundless imaginations to comfort us and make us feel like we have some control over these things that are much bigger than we are.

Chelsie Shakespeare

You speak an infinite deal of nothing.

William Shakespeare

They lie deadly that tell you have good faces.

William Shakespeare

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!

William Shakespeare

O ill-starred wench! Pale as your smock!

William Shakespeare

I am in bloodStepp'd in so far, that, should I wade no more,Returning were as tedious as go o'er.

William Shakespeare

With mirth and laughter let old wrinkles come.

William Shakespeare

And nothing is, but what is not.

William Shakespeare

La vida es mi tortura y la muerte será mi descanso.

William Shakespeare

Lord Polonius: What do you read, my lord? Hamlet: Words, words, words. Lord Polonius: What is the matter, my lord? Hamlet: Between who? Lord Polonius: I mean, the matter that you read, my lord.

William Shakespeare

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

William Shakespeare

For in that sleep of death what dreams may come When we have shuffled off this mortal coil,Must give us pause

William Shakespeare

They are the books, the arts, the academes,That show, contain and nourish all the world.

William Shakespeare

These violent delights have violent endsAnd in their triump die, like fire and powderWhich, as they kiss, consume

William Shakespeare

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.

William Shakespeare

Some Cupid kills with arrows, some with traps.

William Shakespeare

By the sweet power of music: therefore the poet did feign that Orpheus drew trees, stones and floods; since nought so stockish, hard and full of rage, but music for the time doth change his nature. The man that hath no music in himself, nor is not moved with concord of sweet sounds, is fit for treasons, stratagems and spoils; The motions of his spirit are dull as night and his affections dark as Erebus: Let no such man be trusted. Mark the music.

William Shakespeare

She moves me not, or not removes at least affection's edge in me.

William Shakespeare

As an unperfect actor upon the stageWho with much fear is put besides his partOr some fierce thing, replete with too much rageWhose strengths abundance weakens his own heartSo I, for fear of trust, forget to sayThe perfect ceremony of love's riteAnd in mine own love's strength seem to decayO'ercharged with burthen of my own love's mighto, let my books be then the eloquenceAnd dumb presagers of my speaking breastWho plead for love, and look for recompenseMore than that tongue that more hath express'd.O, learn to read what silent love hath writTo hear with eyes belongs to love's fine wit.

William Shakespeare

O wonderful, wonderful, and most wonderful wonderful! And yet again wonderful, and after that, out of all hooping.

William Shakespeare