Quotes
Quotes - Shakespeare
On Tuesday last A falcon, now tow'ring in her pride of place, Was by a mousing owl hawked at and killed.
My falcon now is sharp and passing empty, And till she stoop she must not be full-gorged, For then she never looks upon her lure.
When last the young Orlando parted from you, He left a promise to return again Within a hour; and pacing through the forest, Chewing the food of sweet and bitter fancy, Lo, what befell!
Tell me where is fancy bred, Or in the heart, or in the head? How begot, how nourished? Reply, reply. It is engend'red in the eyes, With gazing fed, and fancy dies In the cradle where it lies.
So full of shapes is fancy That it alone is high fantastical.
Let fancy still in my sense in Lethe steep; If it be thus to dream, still let me sleep!
Come, let's have one other gaudy night. Call to me. All my sad captains. Fill our bowls once more. Let's mock the midnight bell.
The courtier's, soldier's, scholar's, eye, tongue, sword, Th' expectancy and rose of the fair state, The glass of fashion and the mould of form, Th' observed of all observers, quite, quite down!
You, sir, I entertain for one of my hundred; only I do not like the fashion of your garments.
Death my lord, Their clothes are after such a pagan cut to 't That sure th' have worn out Christendom.
All this I see; and I see that the fashion wears out more apparel than the man. But art not thou thyself giddy with the fashion too, that thou hast shifted out of thy tale into telling me of the fashion?
I'll be at charges for a looking-glass And entertain a score or two of tailors To study fashions to adorn my body: Since I am crept in favor with myself, I will maintain it with some little cost.
Custom will reconcile people to any atrocity; and fashion will drive them to acquire any custom.
They say, best men are moulded out of faults; And, for the most, become much more the better For being a little bad.
I will chide no breather in the world but myself, against whom I know most faults.
They were all like one another as halfpence are, every one fault seeming monstrous till his fellow-fault came to match it.
Chide him for faults, and do it reverently, When you perceive his blood inclined to mirth, But, being moody, give him time and scope, Till that his passions, like a whale on ground, Confound themselves with working.
There's language in her eye, her cheek, her lip; Nay, her foot speaks.
Here comes the lady. O, so light a foot Will ne'er wear out the everlasting flint.
This night I hold an old accustomed feast, Whereto I have invited many a guest, Such as I love; and you among the store, One more, most welcome, makes my number more.
O, where is loyalty? If it be banished from the frosty head, Where shall it find a harbor in the earth?
You draw me, you hard-hearted adamant! But yet you draw not iron, for my heart Is true as steel.
A little fire is quickly trodden out; Which, being suffer'd, rivers cannot quench.
The fire i' th' flint Shows not till it be struck; our gentle flame Provokes itself and like the current flies Each bound it chafes.
Fire that's closest kept burns most of all.
