Antony and Cleopatra Quotes

The breaking of so great a thing should makeA greater crack: the round worldShould have shook lions into civil streets,And citizens to their dens.

In time we hate that which we often fear.

Give me my robe, put on my crown; I have Immortal longings in me

We, ignorant of ourselves,Beg often our own harms, which the wise powersDeny us for our good; so find we profitBy losing of our prayers.

Music, moody foodOf us that trade in love.

And make death proud to take us.

Age cannot wither her, nor custom stale her infinite variety."Antony and Cleopatra (II.ii) ~William Shakespeare

But she makes hungryWhere she most satisfies...

That truth should be silent I had almost forgot. (Enobarbus)

The stroke of death is as a lover's pinchWhich hurts and is desired.

The barge she sat in, like a burnish'd throne,Burnt on the water.

The crown o' the earth doth melt. My lord!O, wither'd is the garland of the war,The soldier's pole is fall'n: young boys and girlsAre level now with men; the odds is gone,And there is nothing left remarkableBeneath the visiting moon.

My salad daysWhen I was green in judgment, cold in blood,To say as I said then!

Come, sir, come,I'll wrestle with you in my strength of love.Look, here I have you, thus I let you go,And give you to the gods.

The breaking of so great a thing should makeA greater crack. The round worldShould have shook lions into civil streetsAnd citizens to their dens. The death of AnthonyIs not a single doom, in the name layA moiety of the world.

For what good turn?Messenger: For the best turn of the bed.

The worm is not to be trusted...

Kingdoms are clay: our dungy earth alikeFeeds beast as man.

The April's in her eyes: it is love's Spring,And these the showers to bring it on..

Where souls do couch on flowers we’ll hand in hand...

My desolation does begin to make a better life.

Alack, sir, no; her passions are made of nothing but the finest part of pure love. We cannot call her winds and waters sighs and tears; they are greater storms and tempests than almanacs can report: this cannot be cunning in her; if it be, she makes a shower of rain as well as Jove.

But yet let me lamentwith tears as sovereign as the blood of hearts [...]that our stars, irreconcilable, should divideour equalness to this.

He kiss’d, –the last of many doubled kisses, –this orient pearl.

Let him forever go!-Let him not, Charmian. Though he be painted one way like a Gorgon,The other way he's a Mars.

..What our contempt often hurls from us,We wish it our again; the present pleasure,By revolution lowering,does becomeThe opposite of itself..

If you find him sad, say I am dancing. If in mirth, report that I am sudden sick.

Now he'll outstare the lighting. To be furiousIs to be frightened out of fear, and in that moodThe dove will peck the estridge; and I see stillA diminution in our captain's brainRestores his heart. When valor preys on reason,It eats the sword it fights with.

Sometime we see a cloud that's dragonish,A vapor sometime like a bear or lion,A towered citadel, a pendant rock,A forked mountain, or blue promontoryWith trees upon't that nod unto the worldAnd mock our eyes with air. Thou hast seen thesesigns:They are black vesper's pageants.

Cleopatra:If it be love indeed, tell me how much.Antony: There’s beggary in the love that can be reckoned.

Our separation so abides, and flies,That thou, residing here, go'st yet with me,And I, hence fleeting, here remain with thee.

Antony shall be brought drunken forth, and I shall see some squeaking Cleopatra boy my greatnessI’ th’ posture of a whore.

Charmian: Kind sir, give me a good fortune.Fortuneteller:I don’t make fortunes; I only see them.Charmian:Then see a good one for me.Fortuneteller:Your beauty will be even greater than it is now.Charmian(to the others) He means I’ll get fat.IrasNo, he means you’ll use makeup when you’re old.Fortuneteller:You will love more than you are loved.Charmian:I had rather heat my liver with drinking.

There's a great spirit gone! Thus did I desire it.What our contempts doth often hurl from us,We wish it ours again. The present pleasure,By revolution lowering, does becomeThe opposite of itself. She's good, being gone.The hand could pluck her back that shoved her on.

There's beggary in the love that can be reckon'd.

In nature's infinite book of secrecy,A little I can read" 1.2. 30-31.

You shall find there a man who is the abstract of all faults that all men follow.

I do not like 'But yet,' it does allayThe good precedence; fie upon 'But yet'!'But yet' is as a gaoler to bring forthSome monstrous malefactor.

Now, for the love of Love and her soft hours,Let's not confound the time with conference harsh.

What say you? Hence,Horrible villain! or I'll spurn thine eyesLike balls before me; I'll unhair thy head:Thou shalt be whipp'd with wire, and stew'd in brine,Smarting in lingering pickle.

I that do bring the news made not the match.

This common body, like to a vagabond flag upon the stream, goes to and back, lackeying the varying tide, to rot itself with motion

Though you can guess what temperance should be,You know not what it is

Who does i'the wars more than his captain canBecomes his captain's captain: and ambition,The soldier's virtue, rather makes choice of loss,Than gain which darkens him.

Riotous madness,To be entangled with those mouth-made vows,Which break themselves in swearing!

Though age from folly could not give me freedom,It does from childishness

Throw my heartAgainst the flint and hardness of my fault:Which, being dried with grief, will break to powder,And finish all foul thoughts.