William Shakespeare Quotes - Page 55 | Just Great DataBase

What’s Hecuba to him or he to HecubaThat he should weep for her? What would he doHad he the motive and the cue for passionThat I have? He would drown the stage with tearsAnd cleave the general ear with horrid speech,Make mad the guilty and appall the free,Confound the ignorant, and amaze indeedThe very faculties of eyes and ears. Yet I,A dull and muddy-mettled rascal, peakLike John-a-dreams, unpregnant of my cause,And can say nothing—no, not for a king,Upon whose property and most dear lifeA damned defeat was made. Am I a coward?Who calls me villain? Breaks my pate across?Plucks off my beard and blows it in my face?Tweaks me by the nose? Gives me the lie i' th' throatAs deep as to the lungs? Who does me this?

In my mind's eye

I have of late—but whereforeI know not—lost all my mirth, forgone all custom ofexercises; and indeed it goes so heavily with mydisposition that this goodly frame, the earth, seems tome a sterile promontory, this most excellent canopy, the air, look you, this brave o'erhanging firmament,this majestical roof fretted with golden fire, why,it appears no other thing to me than a foul and pestilentcongregation of vapors. What a piece of work is a man! How noble in reason, how infinite in faculties, in form and moving how express and admirable, in action how like an angel, in apprehension how likea god! The beauty of the world, the paragon of animals!And yet, to me, what is this quintessence of dust? Mandelights not me—no, nor woman neither, though byyour smiling you seem to say so.

O, how this spring of love resemblethThe uncertain glory of an April day,Which now shows all the beauty of the sun,And by and by a cloud takes all away!

(...) too much sadness hath congealed your blood,And melancholy is the nurse of frenzy.

Tis a very excellent piece of work, madam lady. Would 'twere done.

Here is my hand, and here I firmly vowNever to woo her more, but do forswear herAs one unworthy all the former favorsThat I have fondly flattered her withal.

Friends, Romans, countrymen, lend me your ears; 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

Of your philosophy you make no use,If you give place to accidental evils.

Strike as thou didst at Caesar; for I know / When though didst hate him worst, thou loved’st him better / Than ever thou loved’st Cassius.

Time shall unfold what pleated cunning hides: Who cover faults, at last shame them derides.

These growing feathers pluck'd from Caesar's wing Will make him fly an ordinary pitch, Who else would soar above the view of menAnd keep us all in servile fearfulness.

Nor are those empty-hearted whose low sound reverbs no hollowness.

Thou losest here, a better where to find.

I thrice presented him a kingly crown. Which he did thrice refuse. Was this ambition?

Were all the letters sun, I could not see one.

Molto meglio allontanare i rischi che vivere nell'incubo del rischio.

the fire seven times tried this;seven times tried that judgement isthat did never choose amiss some there be that shadows kiss;such have but a shadows bliss,there be fool alive, i wissilverd o'er, and so was thisTake what wife you will to bedI will ever be your head.So be gone; you are sped.

PORTIASo doth the greater glory dim the less:A substitute shines brightly as a kingUnto the king be by, and then his stateEmpties itself, as doth an inland brookInto the main of waters. Music! hark!NERISSAIt is your music, madam, of the house.PORTIANothing is good, I see, without respect:Methinks it sounds much sweeter than by day.NERISSASilence bestows that virtue on it, madam.PORTIAThe crow doth sing as sweetly as the lark,When neither is attended, and I thinkThe nightingale, if she should sing by day,When every goose is cackling, would be thoughtNo better a musician than the wren.How many things by season season'd areTo their right praise and true perfection!Peace, ho! the moon sleeps with EndymionAnd would not be awaked.- Acte V, Scene 1

God made him, and therefore let him pass for a man.