Quotes
Quotes - Shakespeare
He will give the devil his due.
There's neither honesty, manhood, nor good fellowship in thee.
If all the year were playing holidays,
To sport would be as tedious as to work.
Fresh as a bridegroom; and his chin new reap'd
Showed like a stubble-land at harvest-home;
He was perfumed like a milliner,
And 'twixt his finger and his thumb he held
A pouncet-box, which ever and anon
He gave his nose and took 't away again.
And as the soldiers bore dead bodies by,
He called them untaught knaves, unmannerly,
To bring a slovenly unhandsome corse
Betwixt the wind and his nobility.
God save the mark.
And telling me, the sovereign'st thing on earth
Was parmaceti for an inward bruise;
And that it was great pity, so it was,
This villanous saltpetre should be digg'd
Out of the bowels of the harmless earth,
Which many a good tall fellow had destroy'd
So cowardly; and but for these vile guns,
He would himself have been a soldier.
The blood more stirs
To rouse a lion than to start a hare!
By heaven, methinks it were an easy leap
To pluck bright honour from the pale-faced moon,
Or dive into the bottom of the deep,
Where fathom-line could never touch the ground,
And pluck up drowned honour by the locks.
I know a trick worth two of that.
If the rascal have not given me medicines to make me love him, I 'll be hanged.
It would be argument for a week, laughter for a month, and a good jest for ever.
Falstaff sweats to death,
And lards the lean earth as he walks along.
Out of this nettle, danger, we pluck this flower, safety.
Brain him with his lady's fan.
A Corinthian, a lad of mettle, a good boy.
A plague of all cowards, I say.
There live not three good men unhanged in England; and one of them is fat and grows old.
Call you that backing of your friends? A plague upon such backing!
I am a Jew else, an Ebrew Jew.
I have peppered two of them: two I am sure I have paid, two rogues in buckram suits. I tell thee what, Hal, if I tell thee a lie, spit in my face; call me horse. Thou knowest my old ward: here I lay, and thus I bore my point. Four rogues in buckram let drive at me--
Three misbegotten knaves in Kendal green.
Give you a reason on compulsion! If reasons were as plentiful as blackberries, I would give no man a reason upon compulsion, I.
Mark now, how a plain tale shall put you down.
I was now a coward on instinct.
