Quotes
Quotes - Shakespeare
How use doth breed a habit in a man!
O heaven! were man
But constant, he were perfect.
Come not within the measure of my wrath.
Hung be the heavens with black, yield day to night!
Halcyon days.
Between two hawks, which flies the higher pitch;
Between two dogs, which hath the deeper mouth;
Between two blades, which bears the better temper;
Between two horses, which doth bear him best;
Between two girls, which hath the merriest eye,--
I have perhaps some shallow spirit of judgment;
But in these nice sharp quillets of the law,
Good faith, I am no wiser than a daw.
Delays have dangerous ends.
She's beautiful, and therefore to be wooed;
She is a woman, therefore to be won.
Main chance.
Could I come near your beauty with my nails,
I 'd set my ten commandments in your face.
Smooth runs the water where the brook is deep.
What stronger breastplate than a heart untainted!
Thrice is he armed that hath his quarrel just,
And he but naked, though locked up in steel,
Whose conscience with injustice is corrupted.
He dies, and makes no sign.
Close up his eyes and draw the curtain close;
And let us all to meditation.
The gaudy, blabbing, and remorseful day
Is crept into the bosom of the sea.
There shall be in England seven halfpenny loaves sold for a penny; the three-hooped pot shall have ten hoops; and I will make it felony to drink small beer.
Is not this a lamentable thing, that of the skin of an innocent lamb should be made parchment? that parchment, being scribbled o'er, should undo a man?
Sir, he made a chimney in my father's house, and the bricks are alive at this day to testify it.
Thou hast most traitorously corrupted the youth of the realm in erecting a grammar-school; and whereas, before, our forefathers had no other books but the score and the tally, thou hast caused printing to be used, and, contrary to the king, his crown and dignity, thou hast built a paper-mill.
How sweet a thing it is to wear a crown,
Within whose circuit is Elysium
And all that poets feign of bliss and joy!
And many strokes, though with a little axe,
Hew down and fell the hardest-timbered oak.
The smallest worm will turn, being trodden on.
Didst thou never hear
That things ill got had ever bad success?
And happy always was it for that son
Whose father for his hoarding went to hell?
Warwick, peace,
Proud setter up and puller down of kings!
A little fire is quickly trodden out;
Which, being suffered, rivers cannot quench.
