Quotes
Quotes about Men
Hysterica passio, down, thou climbing sorrow,
Thy element's below.
Let not women's weapons, water-drops,
Stain my man's cheeks!
I tax not you, you elements, with unkindness.
Half way down
Hangs one that gathers samphire, dreadful trade!
Methinks he seems no bigger than his head:
The fishermen that walk upon the beach
Appear like mice.
The gods are just, and of our pleasant vices
Make instruments to plague us.
'T is the curse of service,
Preferment goes by letter and affection,
And not by old gradation, where each second
Stood heir to the first.
Her father loved me; oft invited me;
Still question'd me the story of my life,
From year to year, the battles, sieges, fortunes,
That I have passed.
I ran it through, even from my boyish days,
To the very moment that he bade me tell it:
Wherein I spake of most disastrous chances,
Of moving accidents by flood and field,
Of hair-breadth'scapes i' the imminent deadly breach,
Of being taken by the insolent foe
And sold to slavery, of my redemption thence
And portance in my travels' history;
Wherein of antres vast and deserts idle,
Rough quarries, rocks and hills whose heads touch heaven,
It was my hint to speak,--such was the process;
And of the Cannibals that each other eat,
The Anthropophagi, and men whose heads
Do grow beneath their shoulders. This to hear
Would Desdemona seriously incline.
Framed to make women false.
O God, that men should put an enemy in their mouths to steal away their brains!
And smooth as monumental alabaster.
My salad days,
When I was green in judgment.
Men's judgments are
A parcel of their fortunes; and things outward
Do draw the inward quality after them,
To suffer all alike.
Some jay of Italy,
Whose mother was her painting, hath betray'd him:
Poor I am stale, a garment out of fashion.
Triumphs for nothing and lamenting toys
Is jollity for apes and grief for boys.
3 Fish. Master, I marvel how the fishes live in the sea.
1 Fish. Why, as men do a-land: the great ones eat up the little ones.
Not marble, nor the gilded monuments
Of princes, shall outlive this powerful rhyme.
The ornament of beauty is suspect,
A crow that flies in heaven's sweetest air.
Your monument shall be my gentle verse,
Which eyes not yet created shall o'er-read,
And tongues to be your being shall rehearse
When all the breathers of this world are dead;
You still shall live--such virtue hath my pen--
Where breath most breathes, even in the mouths of men.
Let me not to the marriage of true minds
Admit impediments: love is not love
Which alters when it alteration finds.
So on the tip of his subduing tongue
All kinds of arguments and questions deep,
All replication prompt, and reason strong,
For his advantage still did wake and sleep.
To make the weeper laugh, the laugher weep,
He had the dialect and different skill,
Catching all passion in his craft of will.
Why, all the souls that were, were forfeit once;
And He that might the vantage best have took
Found out the remedy. How would you be,
If He, which is the top of judgment, should
But judge you as you are?
The weariest and most loathed worldly life
That age, ache, penury, and imprisonment
Can lay on nature, is a paradise
To what we fear of death.
They say, best men are moulded out of faults,
And, for the most, become much more the better
For being a little bad.
The pleasing punishment that women bear.
Sigh no more, ladies, sigh no more,
Men were deceivers ever,--
One foot in sea and one on shore,
To one thing constant never.
