William Shakespeare Quotes - Page 65 | Just Great DataBase

المجنون من يثق في لطف ذئب او في حب فتى او في قسم عاهرة او في كلام من يود أن يبيعه حصانا.

You see we do, yet see you but our handsAnd this the bleeding business they have done:Our hearts you see not; they are pitiful

Jesters do oft prove prophets.

Vexed I am Of late with passions of some difference,Conceptions only proper to myself,Which gives some soil, perhaps, to my behaviors.

FOOL. If thou wert my fool, nuncle, I’ld have thee beaten for being old before thy time. LEAR. How’s that? FOOL. Thou shouldst not have been old till thou hadst been wise.

Now let it work. Mischief, thou art afoot, Take thou what course thou wilt.

That such a slave as this should wear a sword,Who wears no honesty. Such smiling rogues as these,Like rats, oft bite the holy cords atwainWhich are too intrinse t' unloose; smooth every passionThat in the natures of their lords rebel,Being oil to the fire, snow to the colder moods,Renege, affirm, and turn their halcyon beaksWith every gale and vary of their mastersKnowing naught, like dogs, but following.

إن قلبي ينوح ألا تستطيع الفضيلة أن تعيش بمنجاة من أنياب الحسد.

machinations, hollowness, treachery, and all ruinous disorders, follow us disquietly to our graves

Is it physical To walk unbraced and suck up the humors Of the dank morning? What, is Brutus sick, And will he steal out of his wholesome bed To dare the vile contagion of the night?

But I am bound upon a wheel of fire, that mine own tears do scald like moulten lead.

Friends, Romans, countrymen, lend me your ears

Tráigame un cirujano, tengo herido el cerebro.

O hateful error, melancholy’s child. Why dost thou show to the apt thoughts of men The things that are not? O error soon22 conceived, 70      Thou never comest unto a happy birth, But kill’st the mother that engendered23 thee.

GLOUCESTERNow, good sir, what are you?EDGARA most poor man made tame to fortune's blows,Who by the art of known and feeling sorrowsAm pregnant to good pity.

Thou hast no figures nor no fantasiesWhich busy care draws in the brains of men;Therefore thou sleep’st so sound.Julius Caesar (2.1.248-251)

I'll teach you differences.

And as he plucked his cursed steel away,Mark how the blood of Caesar followed it,As rushing out of doors, to be resolvedIf Brutus unkindly knocked or no.

The evil that men do lives after them; the good is oft interred with their bones.

I am not gamesome: I do lack some partof that quick spirit that is in Antony.