RICHARD, DUKE OF GLOUCESTER:Why then I do but dream on sovereignty,Like one that stands upon a promontoryAnd spies a far-off shore where he would tread,Wishing his foot were equal with his eye,And chi...
O, brave new worldthat has such people in't!
No, no, no, no! Come, let's away to prison:We two alone will sing like birds i' the cage:When thou dost ask me blessing, I'll kneel down,And ask of thee forgiveness: so we'll live,And pray, and sing,...
Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind.
Lord, we know what we are, but know not what we may be.
I’ll follow thee and make a heaven of hell,To die upon the hand I love so well.
If we shadows have offended,Think but this, and all is mended,
If love be rough with you, be rough with love;Prick love for pricking, and you beat love down.Give me a case to put my visage in:A visor for a visor! what care IWhat curious eye doth quote deformities...
I swear to thee by Cupid's strongest bow, By his best arrow, with the golden head, By the simplicity of Venus' doves, By that which knitteth souls and prospers loves, And by that fire which burn'd the...
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 promo...
I have no way and therefore want no eyesI stumbled when I saw. Full oft 'tis seen our means secure us, and our mere defects prove our commodities.
I am one, sir, that comes to tell you your daughterand the Moor are now making the beast with two backs.(IAGO,ActI,SceneI)
He that hath a beard is more than a youth, and he that hath no beard is less than a man. He that is more than a youth is not for me, and he that is less than a man, I am not for him.
For you, in my respect, are all the world.Then how can it be said I am aloneWhen all the world is here to look on me?
For which of my bad parts didst thou first fall in love with me?
For where thou art, there is the world itself,With every several pleasure in the world,And where thou art not, desolation.
Do not, as some ungracious pastors do,Show me the steep and thorny way to heaven;Whilst, like a puff'd and reckless libertine,Himself the primrose path of dalliance treadsAnd recks not his own read.
Cannot you tell that? Every fool can tell that. It was the very day that young Hamlet was born, he that is mad and sent into England.Ay, marry, why was he sent into England?Why, because he was mad. He...
And since you know you cannot see yourself,so well as by reflection, I, your glass,will modestly discover to yourself,that of yourself which you yet know not of.
All the world’s a stage, And all the men and women merely players:They have their exits and their entrances;And one man in his time plays many parts.