William Shakespeare Quotes - Page 61 | Just Great DataBase

What relish is in this? How runs the stream?Or I am mad, or else this is a dream.Let fancy still my sense in Lethe steep.If it be thus to dream, still let me sleep!

But rather reason thus with reason fetter: Love sough is good but given unsought is better.

Cucullus non facit monachum; that’s as much to say, as I wear not motley in my brain.

Make me a willow cabin at your gateAnd call upon my soul within the house;Write loyal cantons of contemned loveAnd sing them loud even in the dead of night;Hallo your name to the reverberate hillsAnd make the babbling gossip of the airCry out "Olivia!" O, you should not restBetween the elements of air and earthBut you should pity me

         O mistress mine! Where are you roaming?          O, stay and hear: your true love’s coming,               That can sing both high and low. 40            Trip no further, pretty sweeting;          Journeys end in lovers meeting,               Every wise man’s son doth know.

Disguise, I see thou art a wickedness,/ Wherein the...enemy does much.

What kind o' man is he?""Why, of mankind.

Viola to Duke Orsino: 'I'll do my best To woo your lady.'[Aside.] 'Yet, a barful strife! Whoe'er I woo, myself would be his wife.

ORSINIO: Boy, thou hast said to me a thousand timesThou never shouldst love woman like to me.VIOLA:And all those sayings will I overswear;And those swearings keep as true in soulAs doth that orbèd continent the fireThat severs day from night.

The world is not thy friend nor the world’s law.

Orsino: For, boy, however we do praise ourselves,Our fancies are more giddy and unfirm,More longing, wavering, sooner lost and won,Than women's are. ...For women are as roses, whose fair flow'rBeing once display'd doth fall that very hour.Viola: And so they are; alas, that they are so!To die, even when they to perfection grow!

Well, we were born to die.

wert thou as farAs that vast shore washed with the farthest sea,I would adventure for such merchandise.

Sometimes we punish ourselves the most.

I would I were thy bird.

Afore me! It is so very late,That we may call it early by and by.

Either thou or I, or both, must go with him.

Romeo: I dreamt a dream tonight.Mercutio: And so did I.Romeo: Well, what was yours?Mercutio: That dreamers often lie.

There on the ground, with his own tears made drunk.

O, that this too too solid flesh would melt, Thaw and resolve itself into a dew!