Quotes
Quotes - Shakespeare
Prithee, friend, Pour out the pack of matter to mine ear, The good and the bad together: he's friends with Caesar, In state of health, thou say'st, and thou say'st, free.
Ram thou fruitful tidings in mine ears, That long time have been barren.
Though it be honest, it is never good To bring bad news; give to a gracious message An host of tongues, but let ill tidings tell Themselves when they be felt.
(Celia:) Here come Monsieur Le Beau. (Rosalind:) With his mouth full of news. (Celia:) Which he will put on us as pigeons feed their young. (Rosalind:) Then shall we be news-crammed.
If't be summer news, Smile to't before; if winterly, thou need'st But keep that count'nance still.
There's villainous news abroad.
Yet the first bringer of unwelcome news Hath but a losing office, and his tongue Sounds ever after as a sullen bell, Rememb'red tolling a departing friend.
(Pistol:) And tidings do I bring and lucky joys And golden times and happy news of price. (Falstaff:) I pray thee now, deliver them like a man of this world.
Ten day ago I drowned these news in tears; And now, to add more measure to your woes, I come to tell you things sith then befallen.
O, my sweet sir, news fitting to the night, Black, fearful, comfortless, and horrible.
My heart hath one poor string to stay it by, Which holds but till thy news be uttered, And then all this thou seest is but a clod And module of confounded royalty.
Master, master, old news! And such news as you never heard of!
How goes it now, sir? This news which is called true is so like an old tale that the verity of it is in strong suspicion.
The crow doth sing as sweetly as the lark When neither is attended; and I think The nightingale, if she should sing by day When every goose is cackling, would be thought No better a musician than the wren. How many thing by season seasoned are To their right praise and true perfection!
His nature is too noble for the world. He would not flatter Neptune for his trident, Or Jove for's power to thunder.
This was the noblest Roman of them all. All the conspirators save only he Did that they did in envy of great Caesar; He, only in a general honest thought And common good to all, made one of them.
Where every something, being blent together turns to a wild of nothing.
Madam, you have bereft me of all words. Only my blood speaks to you in my veins, And there is such confusion in my powers As, after some oration fairly spoke By a beloved prince, there doth appear Among the buzzing pleased multitude, Where every something being blent together Turns to a wild of nothing, save of joy Expressed and not expressed.
The hand of little employment hath the daintier sense.
I am Sir Oracle, And when I ope my lips, let no dog bark!
Very good orators, when they are out, they will spit; and for lovers, lacking--God warn us!--matter, the cleanliest shift is to kiss.
If you did wed my sister for her wealth, Then for her wealth's sake use her with more kindness: Or if you like elsewhere, do it by stealth; Muffle your false love with some show of blindness: Let not my sister read it in your eye; Be not thy tongue thy own shame's orator; Look sweet, spear fair, become disloyalty; Apparel vice like virtue's harbinger; Bear a fair presence, though your heart be tainted; Teach sin the carriage of a holy saint; Be secret-false: what need she be acquainted?
I come not, friends, to steal away your hearts. I am no orator, as Brutus is, But (as you know me all) a plain blunt man That love my friend; and that they know full well That gave me public leave to speak of him.
The heavens themselves, the planets, and this centre Observe degree, priority, and place, Insisture, course, proportion, season, form, Office, and custom, in all line of order.
Not a mouse Shall disturb this hallowed house. I am sent, with broom, before, To sweep the dust behind the door.
