William Shakespeare Quotes - Page 17 | Just Great DataBase

I hold the world but as the world, Gratiano, A stage where every man must play a part, And mine a sad one.

Blood will have blood.

Will all great Neptune's ocean wash this blood clean from my hand? No, this my hand will rather the multitudinous seas incarnadine, making the green one red.

Benvolio: What sadness lengthens Romeo's hours?Romeo: Not having that, which, having, makes them short.

Alas, that love, so gentle in his view,Should be so tyrannous and rough in proof!*It’s sad. Love looks like a nice thing, but it’s actually very rough when you experience it.*

Bid me run, and I will strive with things impossible.

Educated men are so impressive!

Olivia: How does he love me?Viola: With adoration, with fertile tears,With groans that thunder love, with sighs of fire.

It is silliness to live when to live is torment, and then have we a prescription to die when death is our physician.

I could be bounded in a nutshell and count myself king of infinite space.

Is it not strange that sheep's guts could hail souls out of men's bodies?

I am a man,
More sinn'd against than sinning.

Your face, my thane, is as a book where menMay read strange matters. To beguile the time,Look like the time; bear welcome in your eye,Your hand, your tongue: look like the innocent flower,But be the serpent under't.

And since you know you cannot see yourself,so well as by reflection, I, your glass,will modestly discover to yourself,that of yourself which you yet know not of.

Ill met by moonlight, proud Titania

The sweetest honey is loathsome in its own deliciousness. And in the taste destroys the appetite. Therefore, love moderately.

Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou Romeo?

LEONATOWell, niece, I hope to see you one day fitted with a husband.BEATRICENot till God make men of some other metal than earth. Would it not grieve a woman to be overmastered with a pierce of valiant dust? to make an account of her life to a clod of wayward marl? No, uncle, I'll none: Adam's sons are my brethren; and, truly, I hold it a sin to match in my kindred.

This cold night will turn us all to fools and madmen.

O me, you juggler, you canker-blossom, you thief of love!