Quotes
Quotes - Shakespeare
How sweet the moonlight sleeps upon this bank!
Here we will sit and let the sounds of music
Creep in our ears: soft stillness and the night
Become the touches of sweet harmony.
Sit, Jessica. Look how the floor of heaven
Is thick inlaid with patines of bright gold:
There's not the smallest orb which thou behold'st
But in his motion like an angel sings,
Still quiring to the young-eyed cherubins.
Such harmony is in immortal souls;
But whilst this muddy vesture of decay
Doth grossly close it in, we cannot hear it.
I am never merry when I hear sweet music.
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.
How far that little candle throws his beams!
So shines a good deed in a naughty world.
How many things by season season'd are
To their right praise and true perfection!
This night methinks is but the daylight sick.
These blessed candles of the night.
Fair ladies, you drop manna in the way
Of starved people.
We will answer all things faithfully.
Love is your master, for he masters you: And he that is so yoked by a fool, Methinks, should not be chronicled for wise.
Action is eloquence.
This above all: to thine own self be true, And it must follow, as the night the day, Thou canst not then be false to any man.
This above all: to thine own self be true, And it must follow, as the night the day, Thou canst not then be false to any man.
This above all: to thine own self be true, And it must follow, as the night the day, Thou canst not then be false to any man.
We know what we are, but know not what we may be.
Love all, trust a few, do wrong to none.
The devil can cite Scripture for his purpose.
Words without thoughts never to heaven go.
The fool doth think he is wise, but the wise man knows himself to be a fool.
The course of true love never did run smooth.
I wish you all the joy that you can wish.
I dote on his very absence, and I wish them a fair departure.
How like a winter hath my absence been From thee, the pleasure of the fleeting year! What freezings have I felt, what dark days seen! What old December's bareness everywhere!
All days are nights to see till I see thee, And nights bright days when dreams do show thee to me.
I dote on his very absence.
