Quotes
Quotes about Wit
One out of suits with fortune. -As You Like It. Act i. Sc. 2.
My pride fell with my fortunes. -As You Like It. Act i. Sc. 2.
I shall ne'er be ware of mine own wit till I break my shins against it. -As You Like It. Act ii. Sc. 4.
Under the greenwood tree Who loves to lie with me. -As You Like It. Act ii. Sc. 5.
And then he drew a dial from his poke, And looking on it with lack-lustre eye, Says very wisely, âIt is ten o'clock: Thus we may see,â quoth he, âhow the world wags.â -As You Like It. Act ii. Sc. 7.
If ladies be but young and fair, They have the gift to know it; and in his brain, Which is as dry as the remainder biscuit After a voyage, he hath strange places cramm'd With observation, the which he vents In mangled forms. -As You Like It. Act ii. Sc. 7.
I must have liberty Withal, as large a charter as the wind, To blow on whom I please. -As You Like It. Act ii. Sc. 7.
Oppress'd with two weak evils, age and hunger. -As You Like It. Act ii. Sc. 7.
All the world 's a stage, And all the men and women merely players. They have their exits and their entrances; And one man in his time plays many parts, His acts being seven ages. At first the infant, Mewling and puking in the nurse's arms. And then the whining school-boy, with his satchel And shining morning face, creeping like snail Unwillingly to school. And then the lover, Sighing like furnace, with a woful ballad Made to his mistress' eyebrow. Then a soldier, Full of strange oaths and bearded like the pard; Jealous in honour, sudden and quick in quarrel, Seeking the bubble reputation Even in the cannon's mouth. And then the justice, In fair round belly with good capon lined, With eyes severe and beard of formal cut, Full of wise saws and modern instances; And so he plays his part. The sixth age shifts Into the lean and slipper'd pantaloon, With spectacles on nose and pouch on side; His youthful hose, well saved, a world too wide For his shrunk shank; and his big manly voice, Turning again toward childish treble, pipes And whistles in his sound. Last scene of all, That ends this strange eventful history, Is second childishness and mere oblivion, Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything. -As You Like It. Act ii. Sc. 7.
He that wants money, means, and content is without three good friends. -As You Like It. Act iii. Sc. 2.
With bag and baggage. -As You Like It. Act iii. Sc. 2.
Time travels in divers paces with divers persons. I 'll tell you who Time ambles withal, who Time trots withal, who Time gallops withal, and who he stands still withal. -As You Like It. Act iii. Sc. 2.
The Retort Courteous;⦠the Quip Modest;⦠the Reply Churlish;⦠the Reproof Valiant;⦠the Countercheck Quarrelsome;⦠the Lie with Circumstance;⦠the Lie Direct. -As You Like It. Act v. Sc. 4.
Look in the chronicles; we came in with Richard Conqueror. -The Taming of the Shrew. Induc. Sc. 1.
Nothing comes amiss; so money comes withal. -The Taming of the Shrew. Act i. Sc. 2.
Tush! tush! fear boys with bugs. -The Taming of the Shrew. Act i. Sc. 2.
Make the coming hour o'erflow with joy, And pleasure drown the brim. -All 's Well that Ends Well. Act ii. Sc. 4.
He does it with a better grace, but I do it more natural. -Twelfth Night. Act ii. Sc. 3.
The spinsters and the knitters in the sun And the free maids that weave their thread with bones Do use to chant it: it is silly sooth, And dallies with the innocence of love, Like the old age. -Twelfth Night. Act ii. Sc. 4.
Love taught him shame; and shame, with love at strife, Soon taught the sweet civilities of life.
For why drives on that ship so fast, Without or wave or wind? The air is cut away before, And closes from behind.
Being in a ship is being in a jail, with the chance of being drowned.
Her plates are scarred by the sun, dear lass, And her ropes are taut with the dew, For we're booming down on the old trail, our own trail, the out trail, We're sagging south on the Long Trail, the trail that is always new.
Build me straight. O worthy Master! Staunch and strong, a goodly vessel That shall laugh at all disaster, And with wave and whirlwind wrestle!
The barge she sat in, like a burnished throne, Burned on the water: the poop was beaten gold; Purple the sails, and so perfumed that The winds were lovesick with them; the oars were silver, Which to the tune of flutes kept stroke, and made The water which they beat to follow faster, As amorous of their strokes.
