For where is any author in the world
Teaches such beauty as a woman's eye?
Learning is but an adjunct to ourself.
They have measured many a mile
To tread a measure with you on this grass.
Swift as a shadow, short as any dream;
Brief as the lightning in the collied night,
That in a spleen unfolds both heaven and earth,
And ere a man hath power to say, "Behold!"
The jaws of darkness do devour it up:
So quick bright things come to confusion.
A proper man, as one shall see in a summer's day.
The human mortals.
I have had a dream, past the wit of man to say what dream it was.
The eye of man hath not heard, the ear of man hath not seen, man's hand is not able to taste, his tongue to conceive, nor his heart to report, what my dream was.
The lunatic, the lover, and the poet
Are of imagination all compact:
One sees more devils than vast hell can hold,
That is, the madman: the lover, all as frantic,
Sees Helen's beauty in a brow of Egypt:
The poet's eye, in a fine frenzy rolling,
Doth glance from heaven to earth, from earth to heaven;
And as imagination bodies forth
The forms of things unknown, the poet's pen
Turns them to shapes, and gives to airy nothing
A local habitation and a name.
Such tricks hath strong imagination,
That if it would but apprehend some joy,
It comprehends some bringer of that joy;
Or in the night, imagining some fear,
How easy is a bush supposed a bear!
This passion, and the death of a dear friend, would go near to make a man look sad.
I hold the world but as the world, Gratiano,--
A stage, where every man must play a part;
And mine a sad one.
Why should a man whose blood is warm within,
Sit like his grandsire cut in alabaster?
There are a sort of men whose visages
Do cream and mantle like a standing pond.
Gratiano speaks an infinite deal of nothing, more than any man in all Venice. His reasons are as two grains of wheat hid in two bushels of chaff: you shall seek all day ere you find them, and when you have them, they are not worth the search.
God made him, and therefore let him pass for a man.
When he is best, he is a little worse than a man; and when he is worst, he is little better than a beast.
My meaning in saying he is a good man, is to have you understand me that he is sufficient.
Many a time and oft
In the Rialto you have rated me.
Shall I bend low, and in a bondman's key,
With bated breath and whispering humbleness.
The young gentleman, according to Fates and Destinies and such odd sayings, the Sisters Three and such branches of learning, is indeed deceased; or, as you would say in plain terms, gone to heaven.
An honest exceeding poor man.
If my gossip Report be an honest woman of her word.
The kindest man,
The best-condition'd and unwearied spirit
In doing courtesies.
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 many things by season season'd are
To their right praise and true perfection!
Fair ladies, you drop manna in the way
Of starved people.