William Shakespeare Quotes - Page 40 | Just Great DataBase

HAMLET [...] we fat all creatures else to fat us, and we fat ourselves for maggots. Your fat king and your lean beggar is but variable service, two dishes, but to one table; that's the end.CLAUDIUS Alas, alas.HAMLET A man may fish with the worm that hath eat of a king, and eat of the fish that hath fed of that worm.CLAUDIUS What dost thou mean by this?HAMLET Nothing but to show you how a king may go a progress through the guts of a beggar.

Or are you like the painting of a sorrow, a face without a heart?

My liege, and madam, to expostulateWhat majesty should be, what duty is, Why day is day, night night, and time is time,Were nothing but to waste night, day and time.Therefore, since brevity is the soul of wit,And tediousness the limbs and outward flourishes,I will be brief.

He is dead and gone, lady, He is dead and gone; At his head a grass-green turf, At his heels a stone.

We will have rings and things and fine array

A horse! a horse! my kingdom for a horse!

Tis better, sir, to be brief than tedious.

I come to bury Caesar, not to praise him.The evil that men do lives after them;The good is oft interred with their bones

I will do anything ... ere I'll be married to a sponge.

I have almost forgotten the taste of fears: The time has been, my senses would have cool’d to hear a night-shriek; and my fell of hair would at a dismal treatise rouse and stir as life were in’t: I have supt full with horrors; Direness, familiar to my slaughterous thoughts, cannot once start me.

How now, spirit! Whither wander you?

So well thy words become thee as thy wounds;

Ay, in the temple, in the town, the field, You do me mischief. Fie, Demetrius! Your wrongs do set a scandal on my sex: We cannot fight for love, as men ay do; We should be woo'd, and were not made to woo. I'll follow thee, and make a heaven of hell, To die upon the hand I love so well.

Methought I was enamour'd of an ass.

She was a vixen and though she be but little, she is fierce.

In truth, fair Montague, I am too fond...

Mercutio: "If love be rough with you, be rough with love;

He that hath the steerage of my course,Direct my sail.

Why, such is love's transgression.Griefs of mine own lie heavy in my breast,Which thou wilt propagate, to have it prestWith more of thine: this love that thou hast shownDoth add more grief to too much of mine own.Love is a smoke raised with the fume of sighs;Being purged, a fire sparkling in lovers' eyes;Being vex'd a sea nourish'd with lovers' tears:What is it else? a madness most discreet,A choking gall and a preserving sweet.Farewell, my coz.

Each substance of a grief has twenty shadows.