Reference > Quotations > James Wood, comp. > Dictionary of Quotations
  PREVIOUSNEXT  
CONTENTS · BIBLIOGRAPHIC RECORD
James Wood, comp.  Dictionary of Quotations.  1899.
 
Shakespeare
 
  Me, poor man, my library was dukedom large enough.    Tempest, i. 1.  1
  Sleep seldom visits sorrow; when it doth, / It is a comforter.    Tempest, i. 1.  2
  Knowing I loved my books, he furnished me / From mine own library with volumes that / I prize above my dukedom.    Tempest, i. 2.  3
  You rub the sore, when you should bring the plaster.    Tempest, ii. 1.  4
  A strange fish.    Tempest, ii. 2.  5
  Misery acquaints a man with strange bedfellows.    Tempest, ii. 2.  6
  When they will not give a doit to relieve a lame beggar, they will lay out ten to see a dead Indian.    Tempest, ii. 2.  7
  Do not, for one repulse, forego the purpose / That you resolv’d to effect.    Tempest, iii. 2.  8
  He that dies, pays all debts.    Tempest, iii. 2.  9
  This will prove a brave kingdom to me, where I shall have my music for nothing.    Tempest, iii. 2.  10
  Repentance is heart’s sorrow, and a clear life ensuing.    Tempest, iii. 3.  11
  We are such stuff / As dreams are made on; and our little life / Is rounded with a sleep.    Tempest, iii. 3.  12
  Do not give dalliance / Too much the rein; the strongest oaths are straw / To the fire i’ the blood. Be more abstemious, / Or else good night your vow.    Tempest, iv. 1.  13
  The cloud-capp’d towers, the gorgeous palaces, / The solemn temples, the great globe itself, / Yea, all that it inherit, shall dissolve; / And, like this insubstantial pageant faded, / Leave not a rack behind.    Tempest, iv. 1.  14
  The strongest oaths are straw / To the fire i’ the blood.    Tempest, iv. 1.  15
  Let us not burden our remembrances with / A heaviness that’s gone.    Tempest, v. 1.  16
  Home-keeping youth have ever homely wits.    Two Gent. of Verona, i. 1.  17
  Wherefore waste I time to counsel thee / That art a votary to fond desire?    Two Gent. of Verona, i. 1.  18
  Fie! fie! how wayward is this foolish love, / That like a testy babe will scratch the nurse, / And presently, all humbled, kiss the rod.    Two Gent. of Verona, i. 2.  19
  Fire that’s closest kept burns most of all.    Two Gent. of Verona, i. 2.  20
 
 
  I have no other but a woman’s reason; / I think him so because I think him so.    Two Gent. of Verona, i. 2.  21
  They love least that let men know their love.    Two Gent. of Verona, i. 2.  22
  Experience is by industry achieved, / And perfected by swift course of time.    Two Gent. of Verona, i. 3.  23
  That man that hath a tongue, I say, is no man, / If with his tongue he cannot win a woman.    Two Gent. of Verona, ii. 1.  24
  Truth hath better deeds than words to grace it.    Two Gent. of Verona, ii. 2.  25
  You always end ere you begin.    Two Gent. of Verona, ii. 4.  26
  He wants wit that wants resolved will.    Two Gent. of Verona, ii. 6.  27
  Unheedful vows may heedfully be broken; / And he wants wit that wants resolvèd will, / To learn his wit to exchange the bad for better.    Two Gent. of Verona, ii. 6.  28
  Didst thou but know the inly touch of love, / Thou wouldst as soon go kindle fire with snow, / As seek to quench the fire of love with words.    Two Gent. of Verona, ii. 7.  29
  His words are bonds, his oaths are oracles.    Two Gent. of Verona, ii. 7.  30
  The current that with gentle murmur glides, / Thou know’st, being stopp’d, impatiently doth rage.    Two Gent. of Verona, ii. 7.  31
  Thou would’st as soon go kindle fire with snow, / As seek to quench the fire of love with words.    Two Gent. of Verona, ii. 7.  32
  A woman sometimes scorns what best contents her.    Two Gent. of Verona, iii. 1.  33
  Cease to lament for that thou canst not help, / And study help for that which thou lament’st.    Two Gent. of Verona, iii. 1.  34
  Dumb jewels often, in their silent kind, / More than quick words do move a woman’s mind.    Two Gent. of Verona, iii. 1.  35
  Except I be by Silvia in the night, / There is no music in the nightingale.    Two Gent. of Verona, iii. 1.  36
  Hope is a lover’s staff; walk hence with that, / And manage it against despairing thoughts.    Two Gent. of Verona, iii. 1.  37
  Time is the nurse and breeder of all good.    Two Gent. of Verona, iii. 1.  38
  Beauty lives with kindness.    Two Gent. of Verona, iv. 2.  39
  Lovers break not hours, / Unless it be to come before their time; / So much they spur their expedition.    Two Gent. of Verona, v. 1.  40
  How use doth breed habit in a man!    Two Gent. of Verona, v. 4.  41
  O Heaven! were man / But constant, he were perfect; that one error / Fills him with faults; makes him run through all sins.    Two Gent. of Verona, v. 4.  42
  Use doth breed a habit in a man.    Two Gent. of Verona, v. 4.  43
  Were man / But constant, he were perfect.    Two Gent. of Verona, v. 4.  44
  Who by repentance is not satisfied / Is not of heaven, nor earth.    Two Gent. of Verona, v. 4.  45
  Who should be trusted when one’s right hand / Is perjured to the bosom?    Two Gent. of Verona, v. 4.  46
  Hope is a curtail dog in some affairs.    Merry Wives, ii. 1.  47
  Experience, a jewel that I have purchased at an infinite rate.    Merry Wives, ii. 2.  48
  If money go before, all ways do lie open.    Merry Wives, ii. 2.  49
  Love like a shadow flies when substance love pursues; / Pursuing that that flies, and flying what pursues.    Merry Wives, ii. 2.  50
  Why, then, the world’s mine oyster, / Which I with sword will open.    Merry Wives, ii. 2.  51
  Sheathe thy impatience; throw cold water on thy choler.    Merry Wives, ii. 3.  52
  Keep a gamester from dice, and a good student from his book.    Merry Wives, iii. 1.  53
  O what a world of vile ill-favoured faults / Looks handsome in three hundred pounds a-year!    Merry Wives, iii. 4.  54
  I have a kind of alacrity in sinking.    Merry Wives, iii. 5.  55
  Good luck lies in odd numbers.    Merry Wives, v. 1.  56
  Life is a shuttle.    Merry Wives, v. 1.  57
  What cannot be eschew’d must be embraced.    Merry Wives, v. 4.  58
  As poor as Job.    Merry Wives, v. 5.  59
  Heaven doth with us as we with torches do, / Not light them for themselves; for if our virtues / Did not go forth of us, ’twere all alike / As if we had them not.    Meas. for Meas., i. 1.  60
  Spirits are not finely touch’d / But to fine issues, nor Nature never lends / The smallest scruple of her excellence / But, like a thrifty goddess, she determines / Herself the glory of a creditor, / Both thanks and use.    Meas. for Meas., i. 1.  61
  When maidens sue, / Men give like gods.    Meas. for Meas., i. 1.  62
  Good counsellors lack no clients.    Meas. for Meas., i. 2.  63
  Our decrees / Dead to infliction, to themselves are dead; / And liberty plucks justice by the nose, / The baby beats the nurse, and quite athwart / Goes all decorum.    Meas. for Meas., i. 4.  64
  Our doubts are traitors, / And make us lose the good we oft might win / By fearing to attempt.    Meas. for Meas., i. 5.  65
  Mercy is not itself, that oft looks so; / Pardon is still the nurse of second woe.    Meas. for Meas., ii. 1.  66
  Some rise by sin, and some by virtue fall: / Some run from brakes of vice and answer none, / And some condemned for a fault alone.    Meas. for Meas., ii. 1.  67
  We must not make a scarecrow of the law.    Meas. for Meas., ii. 1.  68
  “Show some pity?” “I show it most of all when I show justice.”    Meas. for Meas., ii. 2.  69
  But man, proud man, / Drest in a little brief authority, / Most ignorant of what he’s most assured, / His glassy essence,—like an angry ape, / Plays such fantastic tricks before high Heaven / As make the angels weep.    Meas. for Meas., ii. 2.  70
  Condemn the fault, and not the actor of it! / Why, every fault’s condemned ere it be done.    Meas. for Meas., ii. 2.  71
  Could great men thunder / As Jove himself does, Jove would ne’er be quiet; / For every pelting, petty officer / Would use his heaven for thunder; nothing but thunder.    Meas. for Meas., ii. 2.  72
  Go to your bosom; / Knock there, and ask your heart what it doth know / That’s like my brother’s fault; if it confess / A natural guiltiness, such as his is, / Let it not sound a thought upon your tongue / Against my brother’s life.    Meas. for Meas., ii. 2.  73
  Great men may jest with saints; ’tis wit in them, / But in the less, foul profanation.    Meas. for Meas., ii. 2.  74
  Having waste ground enough, / Shall we desire to raze the sanctuary / And pitch our evils there?    Meas. for Meas., ii. 2.  75
  It is excellent / To have a giant’s strength, but tyrannous, / To use it like a giant.    Meas. for Meas., ii. 2.  76
  Man, proud man, / Dress’d in a little brief authority; / Most ignorant of what he’s most assur’d, / His glassy essence, like an angry ape, / Plays such fantastic tricks before high heaven, / As make the angels weep.    Meas. for Meas., ii. 2.  77
  Most dangerous / Is that temptation that doth goad us on / To sin in loving virtue.    Meas. for Meas., ii. 2.  78
  No ceremony that to great one ’longs, / Not the king’s crown, nor the deputed sword, / The marshal’s truncheon nor the judge’s robe, / Become them with one half so good a grace / As mercy does.    Meas. for Meas., ii. 2.  79
  O cunning enemy, that, to catch a saint, / With saints dost bait thy hook.    Meas. for Meas., ii. 2.  80
  Oh, it is excellent / To have a giant’s strength, but it is tyrannous / To use it like a giant.    Meas. for Meas., ii. 2.  81
  That in the captain’s but a choleric word, / Which in the soldier is flat blasphemy.    Meas. for Meas., ii. 2.  82
  Why, all the souls that were, were forfeit once; / And He that might the vantage best have took / Found out the remedy. How would you be / If He, which is the top of judgment, should / But judge you as you are?    Meas. for Meas., ii. 2.  83
  Sorrow is always toward ourselves, not heaven; / Showing, we would not spare heaven, as we love it, / But as we stand in fear.    Meas. for Meas., ii. 3.  84
  Coin heaven’s image / In stamps that are forbid.    Meas. for Meas., ii. 4.  85
  It oft falls out to have what we would have; we speak not what we mean.    Meas. for Meas., ii. 4.  86
  Our compell’d sins / Stand more for number than accompt.    Meas. for Meas., ii. 4.  87
  Ay, but to die, and go we know not where; / To lie in cold obstruction and to rot.    Meas. for Meas., iii. 1.  88
  Death is a fearful thing.    Meas. for Meas., iii. 1.  89
  For what thou hast not, still thou striv’st to get, / And what thou hast, forgetst.    Meas. for Meas., iii. 1.  90
  Happy thou art not; / For what thou hast not still thou striv’st to get, / And what thou hast, forgett’st.    Meas. for Meas., iii. 1.  91
  If I do lose thee (life), I do lose a thing / That none but fools would keep; a breath thou art, / Servile to all the skyey influences, / That do this habitation, where thou keep’st, / Hourly inflict.    Meas. for Meas., iii. 1.  92
  If I must die, / I will encounter darkness as a bride / And hug it in my arms.    Meas. for Meas., iii. 1.  93
  If thou art rich, thou art poor; / For, like an ass whose back with ingots bows, / Thou bear’st thy heavy riches but a journey, / And death unloads thee.    Meas. for Meas., iii. 1.  94
  The Hand that hath made you fair hath made you good; the goodness that is cheap in beauty makes beauty brief in goodness; but grace, being the soul of your complexion, should keep the body of it ever fair.    Meas. for Meas., iii. 1.  95
  The miserable have no other medicine, / But only hope.    Meas. for Meas., iii. 1.  96
  The sense of death is most in apprehension, / And the poor beetle that we tread upon / In corporal sufferance finds a pang as great / As when a giant dies.    Meas. for Meas., iii. 1.  97
  The weariest and most loathed worldly life, / That age, ache, penury, and imprisonment / Can lay on nature, is a paradise / To what we fear of death.    Meas. for Meas., iii. 1.  98
  Thou bear’st thy heavy riches but a journey, / And death unloads thee.    Meas. for Meas., iii. 1.  99
  Virtue is bold, and goodness never fearful.    Meas. for Meas., iii. 1.  100
  He who the sword of Heaven will bear / Should be as holy as severe.    Meas. for Meas., iii. 2.  101
  No might nor greatness in mortality / Can censure ’scape; back-wounding calumny / The whitest virtue strikes.    Meas. for Meas., iii. 2.  102
  Novelty is only in request; and it is as dangerous to be aged in any kind of course, as it is virtuous to be constant in any undertaking.    Meas. for Meas., iii. 2.  103
  There is scarce truth enough alive to make societies secure, but security enough to make fellowships accursed.    Meas. for Meas., iii. 2.  104
  Music oft hath such a charm / To make bad good, and good provoke to harm.    Meas. for Meas., iv. 1.  105
  O place and greatness, millions of false eyes / Are stuck upon thee! Volumes of report / Run with these false and most contrarious quests / Upon thy doings! thousand scapes of wit / Make thee the father of their idle dreams, / And rack thee in their fancies.    Meas. for Meas., iv. 1.  106
  Our corn’s to reap, for yet our tilth’s to sow.    Meas. for Meas., iv. 1.  107
  Every true man’s apparel fits your thief.    Meas. for Meas., iv. 2.  108
  When once our grace we have forgot, / Nothing goes right; we would, and we would not.    Meas. for Meas., iv. 4.  109
  ’Tis a physic that’s bitter to sweet end.    Meas. for Meas., iv. 6.  110
  ’Gainst the tooth of time / And rasure of oblivion.    Meas. for Meas., v. 1.  111
  Best men are moulded out of faults.    Meas. for Meas., v. 1.  112
  Keep me in patience; and, with ripened time, / Unfold the evil which is here wrapt up / In countenance.    Meas. for Meas., v. 1.  113
  Like doth quit like, and measure still for measure.    Meas. for Meas., v. 1.  114
  They say best men are moulded out of faults, / And, for the most, become much more the better / For being a little bad.    Meas. for Meas., v. 1.  115
  Tooth of time.    Meas. for Meas., v. 1.  116
  Truth is truth to the end of reckoning.    Meas. for Meas., v. 1.  117
  A wretched soul, bruised with adversity, / We bid be quiet when we hear it cry; / But were we burdened with like weight of pain, / As much, or more, we should ourselves complain.    Comedy of Errors, ii. 1.  118
  Headstrong liberty is lashed with woe.    Comedy of Errors, ii. 1.  119
  Patience, unmoved, no marvel though she pause; / They can be meek that have no other cause.    Comedy of Errors, ii. 1.  120
  There’s nothing situate under heaven’s eye, / But hath its bound in earth, in sea, in sky.    Comedy of Errors, ii. 1.  121
  Every why hath a wherefore.    Comedy of Errors, ii. 2.  122
  For slander lives upon successión, / For ever housed where it gets possessión.    Comedy of Errors, iii. 1.  123
  Slander lives upon succession; / For ever housed, where it once gets possession.    Comedy of Errors, iii. 1.  124
  Small cheer and great welcome make a merry feast.    Comedy of Errors, iii. 1.  125
  Courtesy itself must convert to disdain, if you come in her presence.    Much Ado, i. 1.  126
  He is a very valiant trencherman; he hath an excellent stomach.    Much Ado, i. 1.  127
  He wears his faith but as the fashion of his hat.    Much Ado, i. 1.  128
  In time the savage bull doth bear the yoke.    Much Ado, i. 1.  129
  What need the bridge much broader than the flood? / The fairest grant is the necessity. / Look, what will serve is fit.    Much Ado, i. 1.  130
  ’Tis impossible you should take true root, but by the fair weather that you make yourself; it is needful that you frame the season for your own harvest.    Much Ado, i. 3.  131
  I cannot hide what I am; I must be sad when I have cause, and smile at no man’s jests; eat when I have stomach, and wait for no man’s leisure; sleep when I am drowsy, and tend on no man’s business; laugh when I am merry, and claw no man in his humour.    Much Ado, i. 3.  132
  How much better it is to weep at joy than to joy at weeping!    Much Ado, i. 4.  133
  As merry as the day is long.    Much Ado, ii. 1.  134
  Beauty is a witch, / Against whose charms faith melteth into blood.    Much Ado, ii. 1.  135
  Friendship is constant in all other things, / Save in the office and affairs of love; / Therefore, all hearts in love use their own tongues; / Let every eye negotiate for itself, / And trust no agent.    Much Ado, ii. 1.  136
  He that hath a beard is more than a youth, and he that hath no beard is less than a man.    Much Ado, ii. 1.  137
  I were but little happy if I could say how much.    Much Ado, ii. 1.  138
  Let every eye negotiate for itself, and trust no agent.    Much Ado, ii. 1.  139
  She speaks poniards, and every word stabs: if her breath were as terrible as her terminations, there were no living with her; she would infect to the north star.    Much Ado, ii. 1.  140
  Silence is the perfectest herald of joy; I were but little happy, if I could say how much.    Much Ado, ii. 1.  141
  Doth not the appetite alter? A man loves the meat in his youth that he cannot endure in his age.    Much Ado, ii. 3.  142
  Happy are they that hear their detractions, and can put them to mending.    Much Ado, ii. 3.  143
  How still the evening is, / As hushed on purpose to grace harmony!    Much Ado, ii. 3.  144
  It is the witness still of excellency / To put a strange face on his own perfection.    Much Ado, ii. 3.  145
  Disdain and scorn ride sparkling in her eye, / Misprising what they look on.    Much Ado, iii. 1.  146
  Loving goes by haps; some Cupid kills with arrows, some with traps.    Much Ado, iii. 1.  147
  One doth not know / How much an ill word may empoison liking.    Much Ado, iii. 1.  148
  Every one can master a grief but he that has it.    Much Ado, iii. 2.  149
  He hath a heart as sound as a bell, and his tongue is the clapper; for what his heart thinks his tongue speaks.    Much Ado, iii. 2.  150
  Fashion wears out more apparel than the man.    Much Ado, iii. 3.  151
  Seest thou not, I say, what a deformed thief this fashion is? how giddily he turns about all the hot bloods between fourteen and five-and-thirty.    Much Ado, iii. 3.  152
  The ewe that will not hear her lamb when it baes, will never answer a calf when it bleats.    Much Ado, iii. 3.  153
  The fashion doth wear out more apparel than the man.    Much Ado, iii. 3.  154
  When rich villains have need of poor ones, poor ones may make what price they will.    Much Ado, iii. 3.  155
  Comparisons are odorous.    Much Ado, iii. 5.  156
  For it so falls out, / That what we have we prize not to the worth / While we enjoy it, but being lack’d and lost, / Why, then we rack the value.    Much Ado, iv. 1.  157
  It so falls out, / That what we have we prize not to the worth / Whiles we enjoy it; but being lack’d and lost, / Why then we rack the value.    Much Ado, iv. 1.  158
  O what men dare do! what men may do! / What men daily do, not knowing what they do!    Much Ado, iv. 1.  159
  Some Cupid kills with arrows, some with traps.    Much Ado, iv. 1.  160
  That which we have we prize not to the worth; / But being lacked and lost, why then we rake its value.    Much Ado, iv. 1.  161
  What we have we prize not to the worth, / Whiles we enjoy it; but being lack’d and lost, / Why then we rack the value.    Much Ado, iv. 1.  162
  For there was never yet philosopher / That could endure the toothache patiently.    Much Ado, v. 1.  163
  Men / Can counsel, and speak comfort to that grief / Which they themselves not feel; but, tasting it, / Their counsel turns to passion, which before / Would give preceptial medicine to rage, / Fetter strong madness in a silken thread, / Charm ache with air and agony with words.    Much Ado, v. 1.  164
  Patch grief with proverbs.    Much Ado, v. 1.  165
  There was never yet philosopher / Who could endure the toothache patiently.    Much Ado, v. 1.  166
  What though care killed a cat: thou hast mettle enough in thee to kill care.    Much Ado, v. 1.  167
  If a man do not erect in this age his tomb ere he dies, he will live no longer in monument than the bell rings and the widow weeps.    Much Ado, v. 2.  168
  There’s not one wise man among twenty that will praise himself.    Much Ado, v. 2.  169
  Done to death by slanderous tongues.    Much Ado, v. 3.  170
  All delights are vain; but that most vain / Which, with pain purchas’d, doth inherit pain.    Love’s L’s. Lost, i. 1.  171
  Fast and loose.    Love’s L’s. Lost, i. 1.  172
  Fat paunches make lean pates, and dainty bits / Make rich the ribs, but bankrupt quite the wits.    Love’s L’s. Lost, i. 1.  173
  How well he’s read, to reason against reading!    Love’s L’s. Lost, i. 1.  174
  Light seeking light doth light of light beguile.    Love’s L’s. Lost, i. 1.  175
  Small have continued plodders ever won / Save bare authority from others’ books.    Love’s L’s. Lost, i. 1.  176
  So study evermore is overshot; / While it doth study to have what it would, / It doth forget to do the thing it should; / And when it hath the thing it hunteth most, / ’Tis won as towns with fire,—so won, so lost.    Love’s L’s. Lost, i. 1.  177
  Spite of cormorant devouring Time, / The endeavour of this present breath may buy / That honour which will bate his scythe’s keen edge, / And make us heirs of all eternity.    Love’s L’s. Lost, i. 1.  178
  Study is like the heaven’s glorious sun, / That will not be deep-searched with saucy looks.    Love’s L’s. Lost, i. 1.  179
  Cupid’s butt-shaft is too hard for Hercules’ club.    Love’s L’s. Lost, i. 2.  180
  Devise, wit; write, pen; for I am for whole volumes in folio.    Love’s L’s. Lost, i. 2.  181
  Love is a familiar; love is a devil: there is no evil angel but love. Yet was Samson so tempted, and he had an excellent strength; yet was Solomon so seduced, and he had a very good wit.    Love’s L’s. Lost, i. 2.  182
  Beauty is bought by judgment of the eye, / Not utter’d by base sale of chapmen’s tongues.    Love’s L’s. Lost, ii. 1.  183
  Nothing becomes him ill that he would well.    Love’s L’s. Lost, ii. 1.  184
  Short-lived wits do wither as they grow.    Love’s L’s. Lost, ii. 1.  185
  A giving hand, though foul, shall have fair praise.    Love’s L’s. Lost, iv. 1.  186
  Glory grows guilty of detested crimes.    Love’s L’s. Lost, iv. 1.  187
  He hath never fed of the dainties that are bred in a book.    Love’s L’s. Lost, iv. 2.  188
  Many can brook the weather that love not the wind.    Love’s L’s. Lost, iv. 2.  189
  Sir, he hath fed of the dainties that are bred in a book.    Love’s L’s. Lost, iv. 2.  190
  A lover’s eyes will gaze an eagle blind.    Love’s L’s. Lost, iv. 3.  191
  Beauty doth varnish age, as if new-born, / And gives the crutch the cradle’s infancy. / O, ’tis the sun that maketh all things shine.    Love’s L’s. Lost, iv. 3.  192
  For where is any author in the world / Teaches such beauty as a woman’s eye?    Love’s L’s. Lost, iv. 3.  193
  From women’s eyes this doctrine I derive: / They sparkle still the right Promethean fire; / They are the books, the arts, the academes, / That show, contain, and nourish all the world; / Else none at all in aught proves excellent.    Love’s L’s. Lost, iv. 3.  194
  It (love) adds a precious seeing to the eye.    Love’s L’s. Lost, iv. 3.  195
  Learning is but an adjunct to ourself, / And, where we are, our learning likewise is.    Love’s L’s. Lost, iv. 3.  196
  Never durst poet touch a pen to write / Until his ink were temper’d with love’s sighs; / O, then his lines would ravish savage ears, / And plant in tyrants mild humility.    Love’s L’s. Lost, iv. 3.  197
  Universal plodding prisons up / The nimble spirits in the arteries, / As motion and long-during action tires / The sinewy vigour of the traveller.    Love’s L’s. Lost, iv. 3.  198
  When love speaks, the voice of all the gods / Makes heaven drowsy with the harmony.    Love’s L’s. Lost, iv. 3.  199
  Where is any author in the world / Teaches such beauty as a woman’s eye?    Love’s L’s. Lost, iv. 3.  200
  Why, universal plodding prisons up / The nimble spirits in the arteries, / As motion and long-during action tires / The sinewy vigour of the traveller.    Love’s L’s. Lost, iv. 3.  201
  He draweth out the thread of his verbosity finer than the staple of his argument.    Love’s L’s. Lost, v. 1.  202
  They have been at a great feast of languages, and stolen the scraps.    Love’s L’s. Lost, v. 1.  203
  A jest’s prosperity lies in the ear / Of him that hears it, never in the tongue / Of him that makes it.    Love’s L’s. Lost, v. 2.  204
  He is wit’s pedlar, and retails his wares / At wakes and wassails, meetings, markets, fairs; / And we that sell by gross, the Lord doth know, / Have not the grace to grace it with such show.    Love’s L’s. Lost, v. 2.  205
  Love is full of unbefitting strains; / All wanton as a child, skipping and vain; / Formed by the eye, and therefore, like the eye, / Full of strange shapes, of habits, and of forms, / Varying in subjects as the eye doth roll / To every varied object in his glance.    Love’s L’s. Lost, v. 2.  206
  Merry larks are ploughmen’s clocks.    Love’s L’s. Lost, v. 2.  207
  To wail friends lost / Is not by much so wholesome, profitable, / As to rejoice at friends but newly found.    Love’s L’s. Lost, v. 2.  208
  Ah me! for aught that ever I could read… / The course of true love never did run smooth.    Mid. N.’s Dream, i. 1.  209
  Ay me! for aught that ever I could read, / Could ever hear by tale or history, / The course of true love never did run smooth.    Mid. N.’s Dream, i. 1.  210
  Brief as the lightning in the collied night, / That, in a spleen, unfolds both heaven and earth, / And ere a man hath power to say, “Behold!” / The jaws of darkness do devour it up.    Mid. N.’s Dream, i. 1.  211
  But earthlier happy is the rose distilled, / Than that which, withering on the virgin thorn, / Grows, lives, and dies in single blessedness.    Mid. N.’s Dream, i. 1.  212
  For aught that ever I could read, / Could ever hear by tale or history, / The course of true love never did run smooth.    Mid. N.’s Dream, i. 1.  213
  Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind; / And therefore is wing’d Cupid painted blind.    Mid. N.’s Dream, i. 1.  214
  The course of true love never did run smooth.    Mid. N.’s Dream, i. 1.  215
  Things base and vile, holding no quantity, / Love can transpose to form and dignity.    Mid. N.’s Dream, i. 1.  216
  In maiden meditation, fancy-free.    Mid. N.’s Dream, ii. 1.  217
  Sickness is catching; Oh, were favour so, / Yours would I catch, sweet Hernia, ere I go; / My ear would catch your voice, my eye your eye, / My tongue should catch your tongue’s sweet melody.    Mid. N.’s Dream, ii. 1.  218
  Leave you your power to draw, / And I shall have no power to follow you.    Mid. N.’s Dream, ii. 2.  219
  My heart is true as steel.    Mid. N.’s Dream, ii. 2.  220
  We cannot fight for love, as men may do; / We should be wooed, and were not made to woo.    Mid. N.’s Dream, ii. 2.  221
  You draw me, you hard-hearted adamant; / But yet you draw not iron, for my heart / Is true as steel; leave you your power to draw, / And I shall have no power to follow you.    Mid. N.’s Dream, ii. 2.  222
  A surfeit of sweetest things.    Mid. N.’s Dream, ii. 3.  223
  Surfeit of the sweetest things / The deepest loathing to the stomach brings.    Mid. N.’s Dream, ii. 3.  224
  Nature here shows art, / That through thy bosom makes me see thy heart.    Mid. N.’s Dream, ii. 8.  225
  If I had wit enough to get out of this wood, I have said enough to serve mine own turn.    Mid. N.’s Dream, iii. 1.  226
  Cupid is a knavish lad, / Thus to make poor females mad.    Mid. N.’s Dream, iii. 2.  227
  Dark night, that from the eye his function takes, / The ear more quick of apprehension makes.    Mid. N.’s Dream, iii. 2.  228
  Sleep, that sometimes shuts up sorrow’s eye.    Mid. N.’s Dream, iii. 2.  229
  So we grew together, / Like to a double cherry, seeming parted, / But yet a union in partition; / Two lovely berries moulded on one stem. / So with two seeming bodies, but one heart.    Mid. N.’s Dream, iii. 2.  230
  Uttering such dulcet and harmonious breath, / That the rude sea grew civil at her song, / And certain stars shot madly from their spheres / To hear the sea-maid’s music.    Mid. N.’s Dream, iii. 2.  231
  His speech was like a tangled chain; / Nothing impaired, but all disordered.    Mid. N.’s Dream, v. 1.  232
  In the modesty of fearful duty / I read as much as from the rattling tongue / Of saucy and audacious eloquence.    Mid. N.’s Dream, v. 1.  233
  It is not enough to speak, but to speak true.    Mid. N.’s Dream, v. 1.  234
  Lovers and madmen have such seething brains, / Such shaping fantasies, that apprehend / More than cool reason ever comprehends.    Mid. N.’s Dream, v. 1.  235
  Never anything can be amiss / When simpleness and duty tender it.    Mid. N.’s Dream, v. 1.  236
  Such tricks hath strong imagination, / That, if it would but apprehend some joy, / It comprehends some bringer of that joy; / Or in the night, imagining some fear, / How easy is a bush supposed a bear.    Mid. N.’s Dream, v. 1.  237
  The iron tongue of midnight hath told twelve.    Mid. N.’s Dream, v. 1.  238
  The lunatic, the lover, and the poet, / Are of imagination all compact.    Mid. N.’s Dream, v. 1.  239
  The poet’s eye, in a fine frenzy rolling, / Doth glance from heaven to earth, from earth to heaven, / And, as imagination bodies forth / The forms of things unknown, the poet’s pen / Turns them to shapes, and gives to airy nothing / A local habitation and a name.    Mid. N.’s Dream, v. 1.  240
  Well roared, lion.    Mid. N.’s Dream, v. 1.  241
  Wonder on till truth make all things plain.    Mid. N.’s Dream, v. 1.  242
  Gratiano speaks an infinite deal of nothing…. His reasons are as two grains of wheat hid in two bushels of chaff; you will seek all day ere you find them; and when you have them, they are not worth the search.    Mer. of Ven., i. 1.  243
  I am Sir Oracle, / And when I ope my lips, let no dog bark.    Mer. of Ven., i. 1.  244
  I do know of these / That therefore only are reputed wise / For saying nothing.    Mer. of Ven., i. 1.  245
  I hold the world but as the world, Gratiano; / A stage, where every man must play a part, / And mine a sad one.    Mer. of Ven., i. 1.  246
  Let me play the fool; / With mirth and laughter let old wrinkles come, / And let my liver rather heat with wine / Than my heart cool with mortifying groans.    Mer. of Ven., i. 1.  247
  Nature hath framed strange fellows in her time. / Some that will evermore peep through their eyes / And laugh like parrots at a bagpiper; / And other of such vinegar aspect / That they’ll not show their teeth in way of smile, / Though Nestor swear the jest be laughable.    Mer. of Ven., i. 1.  248
  Sometimes from her eyes / I did receive fair speechless messages.    Mer. of Ven., i. 1.  249
  They lose it (the world) that do buy it with much care.    Mer. of Ven., i. 1.  250
  Why should a man, whose blood is warm within, / Sit like his grandsire cut in alabaster?    Mer. of Ven., i. 1.  251
  With mirth and laughter let old wrinkles come.    Mer. of Ven., i. 1.  252
  You have too much respect upon the world; / They lose it that do buy it with much care.    Mer. of Ven., i. 1.  253
  For aught I see, they are as sick that surfeit with too much as they that starve with nothing.    Mer. of Ven., i. 2.  254
  God made him, and therefore let him pass for a man.    Mer. of Ven., i. 2.  255
  Holy men at their death have good inspirations.    Mer. of Ven., i. 2.  256
  If to do were as easy as to know what were good to do, chapels had been churches and poor men’s cottages princes’ palaces.    Mer. of Ven., i. 2.  257
  It is a good divine that follows his own instructions.    Mer. of Ven., i. 2.  258
  It is no mean happiness to be seated in the mean.    Mer. of Ven., i. 2.  259
  Superfluity comes sooner by white hairs, but competency lives longer.    Mer. of Ven., i. 2.  260
  The brain may devise laws for the blood; but a hot temper leaps o’er a cold decree.    Mer. of Ven., i. 2.  261
  They are as sick that surfeit with too much, as they that starve with nothing.    Mer. of Ven., i. 2.  262
  When did friendship take / A breed for barren metal of his friend?    Mer. of Ven., i. 2.  263
  For sufferance is the badge of all our tribe.    Mer. of Ven., i. 3.  264
  If I can catch him once upon the hip, / I will feed fat the ancient grudge I bear him.    Mer. of Ven., i. 3.  265
  O what a goodly outside falsehood hath!    Mer. of Ven., i. 3.  266
  Sufferance is the badge of all our tribe.    Mer. of Ven., i. 3.  267
  The devil can cite Scripture for his purpose! / An evil soul producing holy witness / Is like a villain with a smiling cheek, / A goodly apple rotten at the heart.    Mer. of Ven., i. 3.  268
  If Hercules and Lichas play at dice / Which is the better man, the greater throw / May turn by fortune from the weaker hand; / So is Alcides beaten by his page.    Mer. of Ven., ii. 1.  269
  Mislike me not for my complexion, / The shadow’d livery of the burnish’d sun, / To whom I am a neighbour and near bred.    Mer. of Ven., ii. 1.  270
  The shadowed livery of the burnished sun.    Mer. of Ven., ii. 1.  271
  Give him a present! give him a halter.    Mer. of Ven., ii. 2.  272
  It is a wise father that knows his own child.    Mer. of Ven., ii. 2.  273
  Drones hive not with me.    Mer. of Ven., ii. 5.  274
  All things that are / Are with more spirit chased than enjoyed.    Mer. of Ven., ii. 6.  275
  Lean, rent, and beggared by the strumpet wind!    Mer. of Ven., ii. 6.  276
  Love is blind, and lovers cannot see the pretty follies that themselves commit.    Mer. of Ven., ii. 6.  277
  Who riseth from a feast / With that keen appetite that he sits down? / Where is the horse that doth untread again / His tedious measures with the unabated fire / That he did pace them first? All things that are / Are with more spirit chaséd than enjoy’d.    Mer. of Ven., ii. 6.  278
  All that glisters is not gold: / Gilded tombs do worms infold.    Mer. of Ven., ii. 7.  279
  Men that hazard all / Do it in hope of fair advantages.    Mer. of Ven., ii. 7.  280
  Hanging and wiving goes by destiny.    Mer. of Ven., ii. 9.  281
  Let none presume / To wear an undeserved dignity.    Mer. of Ven., ii. 9.  282
  O that estates, degrees, and offices / Were not derived corruptly, and that clear honour / Were purchased by the merit of the wearer! / How many then would cover that stand bare; / How many be commanded that command; / How much low peasantry would then be glean’d / From the true seed of honour; and how much honour, /’ Pick’d from the chaff and ruin of the times, / To be new-varnish’d.    Mer. of Ven., ii. 9.  283
  O these deliberate fools, when they do choose / They have the wisdom by their wit to lose.    Mer. of Ven., ii. 9.  284
  Seven times tried that judgment is / That did never choose amiss.    Mer. of Ven., ii. 9.  285
  Some there be that shadows kiss, / Such have but a shadow’s bliss.    Mer. of Ven., ii. 9.  286
  Hath not a Jew eyes? hath not a Jew hands, organs, dimensions, senses, affections, passions? fed with the same food, hurt with the same weapons, subject to the same diseases, healed by the same means, warmed and cooled by the same winter and summer, as a Christian is? If you prick us, do we not bleed? if you tickle us, do we not laugh? if you poison us, do we not die? and if you wrong us, shall not we revenge?    Mer. of Ven., iii. 1.  287
  Let me say amen betimes, lest the devil cross my prayers.    Mer. of Ven., iii. 1.  288
  How many cowards, whose hearts are all as false / As stairs of sand, wear yet upon their chins / The beards of Hercules and frowning Mars! / Who, inward searched, have livers white as milk.    Mer. of Ven., iii. 2.  289
  In religion / What damnéd error but some sober brow / Will bless it and approve it with a text?    Mer. of Ven., iii. 2.  290
  O love, be moderate, allay thy ecstasy; / In measure rain thy joy; scant this excess; / I feel too much thy blessing! Make it less, / For fear I surfeit.    Mer. of Ven., iii. 2.  291
  O these naughty times / Put bars between the owners and their rights.    Mer. of Ven., iii. 2.  292
  Ornament is but the guilèd shore / To a most dangerous sea; the beauteous scarf / Veiling an Indian beauty; in a word, / The seeming truth which cunning times put on / To entrap the wisest.    Mer. of Ven., iii. 2.  293
  Tell me where is fancy bred, / Or in the heart, or in the head? / How begot, how nourishéd? / It is engender’d in the eyes, / With gazing fed.    Mer. of Ven., iii. 2.  294
  That ugly treason of mistrust.    Mer. of Ven., iii. 2.  295
  The world is still deceived with ornament. / In law, what plea so tainted and corrupt, / But, being seasoned with a gracious voice, / Obscures the show of evil? In religion, / What damn&3233;d error but some sober brow / Will bless it and approve it with a text, / Hiding the grossness with fair ornament?    Mer. of Ven., iii. 2.  296
  There is no vice so simple but assumes / Some mark of virtue in his outward parts.    Mer. of Ven., iii. 2.  297
  Unlesson’d girl, unschool’d, unpractised; / Happy in this, she is not yet so old / But she may learn.    Mer. of Ven., iii. 2.  298
  You that choose not by the view, / Choose as fair, and choose as true.    Mer. of Ven., iii. 2.  299
  Quarrelling with occasion.    Mer. of Ven., iii. 5.  300
  Thus when I shun Scylla, your father, I fall into Charybdis, your mother.    Mer. of Ven., iii. 5.  301
  A Daniel come to judgment.    Mer. of Ven., iv. 1.  302
  A second Daniel.    Mer. of Ven., iv. 1.  303
  And earthly power doth then show likest God’s, / When mercy seasons justice.    Mer. of Ven., iv. 1.  304
  But mercy is above this sceptred sway; / It is enthroned in the hearts of kings, / It is an attribute to God Himself, / And earthly power doth then show likest God’s / When mercy seasons justice.    Mer. of Ven., iv. 1.  305
  Every offence is not a hate at first.    Mer. of Ven., iv. 1.  306
  He is well paid that is well satisfied.    Mer. of Ven., iv. 1.  307
  I stay here on my bond.    Mer. of Ven., iv. 1.  308
  Mercy is above this sceptred sway, / It is enthroned in the hearts of kings, / It is an attribute to God himself; / And earthly power doth then show likest God’s / When mercy seasons justice.    Mer. of Ven., iv. 1.  309
  The quality of mercy is not strain’d; / It droppeth as the gentle rain from heaven / Upon the place beneath. It is twice blest; / It blesseth him that gives and him that takes. / ’Tis mightiest in the mightiest; it becomes / The throned monarch better than his crown.    Mer. of Ven., iv. 1.  310
  Though justice be thy plea, consider this— / That in the course of justice none of us / Should see salvation.    Mer. of Ven., iv. 1.  311
  You take my house, when you do take the prop / That doth sustain my house; you take my life / When you do take the means whereby I live.    Mer. of Ven., iv. 1.  312
  A substitute shines brightly as a king, until a king be by.    Mer. of Ven., v. 1.  313
  How far that little candle throws his beams! / So shines a good deed in a naughty world.    Mer. of Ven., v. 1.  314
  How sweet the moonlight sleeps upon this bank! / Here will we sit and let the sounds of music / Creep in our ears: soft stillness and the night / Become the touches of sweet harmony.    Mer. of Ven., v. 1.  315
  I am never merry when I hear sweet music.    Mer. of Ven., v. 1.  316
  Look how the floor of heaven / Is thick inlaid with patines of bright gold; / There’s not the smallest orb which thou behold’st / But in his motion like an angel sings, / Still quiring to the young-eyed cherubims.    Mer. of Ven., v. 1.  317
  Nothing is good I see without respect.    Mer. of Ven., v. 1.  318
  Nought so stockish, hard, and full of rage, / But music for the time doth change its nature.    Mer. of Ven., v. 1.  319
  The man that hath no music in himself, / Nor is not moved with concord of sweet sounds, / Is fit for treasons, stratagems, and spoils; / The motions of his spirit are dull as night, / And his affections dark as Erebus: / Let no such man be trusted.    Mer. of Ven., v. 1.  320
  There’s not the smallest orb which thou be hold’st, / But in his motion like an angel sings, / Still quiring to the young-eyed cherubims.    Mer. of Ven., v. 1.  321
  How many things by season season’d are / To their right praise and true perfection!    Mer. of Ven., v. i.  322
  The crow doth sing as sweetly as the lark / When neither is attended, and I think / The nightingale, if she should sing by day, / When every goose is cackling, would be thought / No better a musician than the wren.    Mer. of Ven., v. i.  323
  Fortune reigns in the gifts of the world, not in the lineaments of nature.    As You Like It, i. 2.  324
  Only in the world I fill up a place, which may be better supplied when I have made it empty.    As You Like It, i. 2.  325
  The little foolery that wise men have makes a great show.    As You Like It, i. 2.  326
  You have deserved / High commendation, true applause and love.    As You Like It, i. 2.  327
  Beauty provoketh thieves sooner than gold.    As You Like It, i. 3.  328
  How full of briers is this working-day world!    As You Like It, i. 3.  329
  O how full of briars is this working-day world.    As You Like It, i. 3.  330
  Thought is free.    As You Like It, i. 3.  331
  And this our life, exempt from public haunt, finds tongues in trees, books in the running brooks, sermons in stones, and good in everything.    As You Like It, ii. 1.  332
  Misery doth part / The flux of company.    As You Like It, ii. 1.  333
  Sermons in stones.    As You Like It, ii. 1.  334
  Sweet are the uses of adversity, / Which like the toad, ugly and venomous, / Wears yet a precious jewel in his head; / And this our life, exempt from public haunt, / Finds tongues in trees, books in the running brooks, / Sermons in stones, and good in everything.    As You Like It, ii. 1.  335
  From lowest place where virtuous things proceed, / The place is dignified by the doer’s deed.    As You Like It, ii. 3.  336
  He that doth the ravens feed, / Yea, providently caters for the sparrow, / Be comfort to my age.    As You Like It, ii. 3.  337
  O what a world is this, when what is comely / Envenoms him that bears it!    As You Like It, ii. 3.  338
  Searching of thy wound, I have by hard adventure found my own.    As You Like It, ii. 4.  339
  A soldier, / Seeking the bubble reputation / Even in the cannon’s mouth.    As You Like It, ii. 7.  340
  All the world’s a stage / And all the men and women merely players.    As You Like It, ii. 7.  341
  And so, from hour to hour, we ripe and ripe, / And then, from hour to hour, we rot and rot, / And thereby hangs a tale.    As You Like it, ii. 7.  342
  Blow, blow, thou winter wind, / Thou art not so unkind / As man’s ingratitude.    As You Like It, ii. 7.  343
  Full of wise saws and modern instances.    As You Like It, ii. 7.  344
  How the world wags!    As You Like It, ii. 7.  345
  If ladies be but young and fair, / They have the gift to know it.    As You Like It, ii. 7.  346
  Jealous in honour, sudden and quick in quarrel, / Seeking the bubble reputation / Even in the cannon’s mouth.    As You Like It, ii. 7.  347
  Last scene of all,… / Is second childishness and mere oblivion; / Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything.    As You Like It, ii. 7.  348
  Manhood, when verging into age, grows thoughtful, / Full of wise saws and modern instances.    As You Like It, ii. 7.  349
  Motley’s the only wear.    As You Like It, ii. 7.  350
  Seeking the bubble reputation, / Even in the cannon’s mouth.    As You Like It, ii. 7.  351
  The infant, / Mewling and puking in the nurse’s arms. / And then the whining schoolboy, with his satchel, / And shining morning face, creeping like snail / Unwillingly to school.    As You Like It, ii. 7.  352
  The justice, / In fair round belly with good capon lined, / With eyes severe and beard of formal cut, / Full of wise saws and modern instances; / And so he plays his part.    As You Like It, ii. 7.  353
  The lean and slippered pantaloon, / With spectacles on nose and pouch on side; / His youthful hose, well saved, a world too wide / For his shrunk shank; and his big manly voice / Turning again towards childish treble, pipes / And whistles in his sound.    As You Like It, ii. 7.  354
  The lover, / Sighing like a furnace, with a woeful ballad / Made to his mistress’ eyebrow.    As You Like It, ii. 7.  355
  The thorny point / Of bare distress hath ta’en from me the show / Of smooth civility.    As You Like It, ii. 7.  356
  Thereby hangs a tale.    As You Like It, ii. 7.  357
  Weed your better judgments / Of all opinion that grows rank in them.    As You Like It, ii. 7.  358
  Every one fault seeming monstrous till his fellow-fault came to match it.    As You Like It, iii. 2.  359
  Good pastures make fat sheep.    As You Like It, iii. 2.  360
  He that wants money, means, and content is without three good friends.    As You Like It, iii. 2.  361
  I earn that I eat, get that I wear; owe no man hate, envy no man’s happiness; glad of other men’s good, content with my harm.    As You Like It, iii. 2.  362
  I will chide no breather in the world but myself, against whom I know most faults.    As You Like It, iii. 2.  363
  Love is merely a madness.    As You Like It, iii. 2.  364
  With bag and baggage.    As You Like It, iii. 2.  365
  His kissing is as full of sanctity as the touch of holy bread.    As You Like It, iii. 4.  366
  Faster than his tongue / Did make offence, his eye did heal it up.    As You Like It, iii. 5.  367
  What care I for words? yet words do well / When he that speaks them pleases those that hear.    As You Like It, iii. 5.  368
  For ever and a day.    As You Like It, iv. 1.  369
  I had rather have a fool to make me merry than experience to make me sad.    As You Like It, iv. 1.  370
  Maids are May when they are maids, but the sky changes when they are wives.    As You Like It, iv. 1.  371
  Make doors fast upon a woman’s wit, and it will out at the casement; shut that, and ’twill out at the keyhole.    As You Like It, iv. 1.  372
  Men are April when they woo, December when they wed.    As You Like It, iv. 1.  373
  Time is the old justice that examines all offenders.    As You Like It, iv. 1.  374
  Too much of a good thing.    As You Like It, iv. 1.  375
  You shall never take a woman without her answer, unless you take her without her tongue.    As You Like It, iv. 1.  376
  That that is, is.    As You Like It, iv. 2.  377
  Chewing the food of sweet and bitter fancy.    As You Like It, iv. 3.  378
  Kindness, nobler ever than revenge.    As You Like It, iv. 3.  379
  The fool doth think he is wise, but the wise man knows himself to be a fool.    As You Like It, v. 1.  380
  Good shepherd, tell this youth what ’tis to love…. It is to be all made of sighs and tears…. It is to be all made of faith and service…. It is to be all made of fantasy, / All made of passion, and all made of wishes; / All adoration, duty, and observance; / All humbleness, all patience, and impatience; / All purity, all trial, all observance.    As You Like It, v. 2.  381
  How bitter a thing it is to look into happiness through another man’s eyes!    As You Like It, v. 2.  382
  “If” is the only peacemaker—much virtue in “if.”    As You Like It, v. 4.  383
  Your “if” is the only peacemaker; much virtue in “if.”    As You Like It, v. 4.  384
  Dost thou love pictures? We will fetch thee straight / Adonis painted by a running brook; / And Cytherea all in sedges hid; / Which seem to move and wanton with her breath; / Even as the waving sedges play with wind.    Tam. of Shrew, Ind. 2.  385
  Frame your mind to mirth and merriment, / Which bars a thousand harms and lengthens life.    Tam. of Shrew, Ind. 2.  386
  No profit grows where is no pleasure ta’en: / In brief, sir, study what you most affect.    Tam. of Shrew, i. 1.  387
  There’s small choice in rotten apples.    Tam. of Shrew, i. 1.  388
  Nothing comes amiss, so money comes withal.    Tam. of Shrew, i. 2.  389
  Strive mightily, but eat and drink as friends.    Tam. of Shrew, i. 2.  390
  Why, nothing comes amiss, so money comes withal.    Tam. of Shrew, i. 2.  391
  Though little fire grows great with little wind, / Yet extreme gusts will blow out fire and all.    Tam. of Shrew, ii. 1.  392
  Kindness in women, not their beauteous looks, shall win my love.    Tam. of Shrew, iv. 2.  393
  ’Tis the mind that makes the body rich; / And as the sun breaks through the darkest clouds, / So honour peereth in the meanest habit.    Tam. of Shrew, iv. 3.  394
  As the sun breaks through the darkest clouds, / So honour peereth in the meanest habit.    Tam. of Shrew, iv. 3.  395
  For ’tis the mind that makes the body rich: / And as the sun breaks through the darkest clouds, / So honour peereth in the meanest habit.    Tam. of Shrew, iv. 3.  396
  Is the jay more precious than the lark because his feathers are more beautiful?    Tam. of Shrew, iv. 3.  397
  Our purses shall be proud, our garments poor.    Tam. of Shrew, iv. 3.  398
  Such war of white and red within her cheeks.    Tam. of Shrew, iv. 5.  399
  A woman moved is like a fountain troubled, / Muddy, ill-seeming, thick, bereft of beauty.    Tam. of Shrew, v. 2.  400
  Be checked for silence, / But never tax’d for speech.    All’s Well, i. 1.  401
  Love all, trust a few, / Do wrong to none; be able for thine enemy / Rather in power than use; and keep thy friend / Under thy own life’s key; be checked for silence, / But never tax’d for speech.    All’s Well, i. 1.  402
  Moderate lamentation is the right of the dead, excessive grief the enemy to the living.    All’s Well, i. 1.  403
  Our remedies oft in ourselves do lie, / Which we ascribe to heaven.    All’s Well, i. 1.  404
  The hind that would be mated by the lion / Must die for love.    All’s Well, i. 1.  405
  We wound our modesty and make foul the clearness of our deservings when of ourselves we publish them.    All’s Well, i. 3.  406
  See that you come not to woo honour, but to wed it.    All’s Well, ii. 1.  407
  Things may serve long, but not serve ever.    All’s Well, ii. 2.  408
  We make trifles of terrors, ensconcing ourselves into seeming knowledge, when we should submit ourselves to an unknown fear.    All’s Well, ii. 3.  409
  There can be no kernel in this light nut; the soul of this man is in his clothes.    All’s Well, ii. 5.  410
  No legacy is so rich as honesty.    All’s Well, iii. 5.  411
  Our virtues would be proud if our faults whipped them not; and our crimes would despair if they were not cherished by our virtues.    All’s Well, iv. 3.  412
  The web of our life is of a mingled yarn, good and ill together; our virtues would be proud if our faults whipped them not, and our crimes would despair if they were not cherished by our virtues.    All’s Well, iv. 3.  413
  Let’s take the instant by the forward top; / For we are old, and on our quick’st decrees / Th’ inaudible and noiseless foot of time / Steals ere we can effect them.    All’s Well, v. 3.  414
  If music be the food of love, play on; / Give me excess of it, that, surfeiting, / The appetite may sicken, and so die.    Twelfth Night, i. 1.  415
  So full of shapes is fancy, that it alone is high-fantastical.    Twelfth Night, i. 1.  416
  That strain again! It had a dying fall: / Oh, it came o’er my ear like the sweet sound / That breathes upon a bank of violets, / Giving and stealing odour!    Twelfth Night, i. 1.  417
  Care’s an enemy to life.    Twelfth Night, i. 3.  418
  You must confine yourself within the modest limits of order.    Twelfth Night, i. 3.  419
  Better a witty fool than a foolish wit.    Twelfth Night, i. 5.  420
  Such as we are made of, such we be.    Twelfth Night, ii. 2.  421
  Dost thou think, because thou art virtuous, there are to be no more cakes and ale?    Twelfth Night, ii. 3.  422
  Journeys end in lovers’ meeting, / Every wise man’s son doth know.    Twelfth Night, ii. 3.  423
  Let still the woman take / An elder than herself; so wears she to him, / So sways she level in her husband’s heart; / For, boy, however we do praise ourselves, / Our fancies are more giddy and unfirm, / More longing, wavering, sooner lost and worn / Than women’s are.    Twelfth Night, ii. 4.  424
  Like patience on a monument, / Smiling at grief.    Twelfth Night, ii. 4.  425
  She never told her love, / But let concealment, like a worm i’ the bud, / Feed on her damask cheek.    Twelfth Night, ii. 4.  426
  She pined in thought, / And with a green and yellow melancholy. / She sat like patience on a monument, / Smiling at grief.    Twelfth Night, ii. 4.  427
  Women are as roses, whose fair flower / Being once display’d, doth fall that very hour.    Twelfth Night, ii. 4.  428
  Some are born great, some achieve greatness, and some have greatness thrust upon them.    Twelfth Night, ii. 5.  429
  I am not what I am.    Twelfth Night, iii. 1; Othello, i. 1.  430
  I hate ingratitude more in a man / Than lying, vainness, babbling, drunkenness, / Or any taint of vice whose strong corruption / Inhabits our frail blood.    Twelfth Night, iii. 1.  431
  Love sought is good, but given unsought is better.    Twelfth Night, iii. 1.  432
  In Nature there’s no blemish but the mind; / None can be called deformed but the unkind.    Twelfth Night, iii. 4.  433
  Virtue is beauty; but the beauteous-evil / Are empty trunks o’erflourished by the devil.    Twelfth Night, iii. 4.  434
  Let thy fair wisdom, not thy passion, sway.    Twelfth Night, iv. 1.  435
  There is no darkness but ignorance.    Twelfth Night, iv. 2.  436
  Thus the whirligig of time brings in his revenges.    Twelfth Night, iv. 2.  437
  The third pays for all.    Twelfth Night, v. 1.  438
  One good deed dying tongueless / Slaughters a thousand, waiting upon that.    Winter’s Tale, i. 2.  439
  You may ride’s / With one soft kiss a thousand furlongs ere / With spur we heat an acre.    Winter’s Tale, i. 2.  440
  Calumny will sear / Virtue itself: these shrugs, these hums and ha’s.    Winter’s Tale, ii. 1.  441
  The silence often of pure innocence / Persuades when speaking fails.    Winter’s Tale, ii. 2.  442
  What’s gone and what’s past help / Should be past grief.    Winter’s Tale, iii. 2.  443
  ’Tis a lucky day, boy, and we’ll do good deeds on’t.    Winter’s Tale, iii. 3.  444
  A snapper up of unconsidered trifles.    Winter’s Tale, iv. 2.  445
  Let me have no lying; it becomes none but tradesmen.    Winter’s Tale, iv. 3.  446
  The self-same sun that shines upon his court / Hides not his visage from our cottage, but / Looks on alike.    Winter’s Tale, iv. 3.  447
  There was speech in their dumbness, language in their very gesture.    Winter’s Tale, v. 2.  448
  For he is but a bastard to the time / That doth not smack of observation.    King John, i. 1.  449
  He is but a bastard to the time / That doth not smack of observation.    King John, i. 1.  450
  Here have we war for war, and blood for blood, / Controlment for controlment.    King John, i. 1.  451
  Lord of thy presence and no land beside.    King John, i. 1.  452
  New-made honour doth forget men’s names; / ’Tis too respective and too sociable, / For your conversion.    King John, i. 1.  453
  Courage mounteth with occasion.    King John, ii. 1.  454
  I have this great commission, / From that supernal judge that stirs good thoughts / In any breast of strong authority, / To look into the blots and stains of right.    King John, ii. 1.  455
  The peace of heaven is theirs who lift their swords / In such a just and charitable war.    King John, ii. 1.  456
  Further I will not flatter you, / That all I see in you is worthy love, / Than this; that nothing do I see in you / That should merit hate.    King John, ii. 2.  457
  He is the half part of a blessèd man, / Left to be finished by such as she; / And she a fair divided excellence, / Whose fulness of perfection lies in him.    King John, ii. 2.  458
  Well, whiles I am a beggar, I will rail, / And say, there is no sin but to be rich; / And being rich, my virtue then shall be, / To say, there is no vice but beggary.    King John, ii. 2.  459
  Grief is proud and makes his owner stout.    King John, iii. 1.  460
  Here I and sorrows sit; / Here is my throne; bid kings come bow to it.    King John, iii. 1.  461
  O let thy vow, / First made to heaven, first be to heaven perform’d…. It is religion that doth make vows kept.    King John, iii. 1.  462
  That which upholdeth him, that thee upholds—His honour.    King John, iii. 1.  463
  To gild refined gold, to paint the lily, / To throw a perfume on the violet, / To smooth the ice, or add another hue / Unto the rainbow, or with taper-light / To seek the beauteous eve of heaven to garnish, / Is wasteful and ridiculous excess.    King John, iii. 1.  464
  When Fortune means to men most good, / She looks upon them with a threatening eye.    King John, iii. 1.  465
  Before the curing of a strong disease, / Even in the instant of repair and health, / The fit is strongest; evils that take leave, / On their departure most of all show evil.    King John, iii. 4.  466
  Evils that take leave, / On their departure most of all show evil.    King John, iii. 4.  467
  Grief fills the room up of my absent child, / Lies in his bed, walks up and down with me; / Puts on his pretty look, repeats his words, / Remembers me of all his gracious parts, / Stuffs out his vacant garments with his form: Then have I reason to be fond of grief.    King John, iii. 4.  468
  He that stands upon a slippery place / Makes nice of no vain hold to stay him up.    King John, iii. 4.  469
  I am not mad; I would to heaven I were! / For then ’tis like I should forget myself.    King John, iii. 4.  470
  Life is as tedious as a twice-told tale, / Vexing the dull ear of a drowsy man.    King John, iii. 4.  471
  Strong reasons make strong actions.    King John, iii. 4.  472
  When your head did but ache, / I knit my handkerchief about your brows, / The best I had; a princess wrought it me; / And I did never ask it you again.    King John, iv. 1.  473
  And, often times, excusing of a fault / Doth make the fault worse by the excuse.    King John, iv. 2.  474
  Excusing of a fault / Doth make the fault worse by the excuse.    King John, iv. 2.  475
  How the sight of means to do ill deeds / Make deeds ill done!    King John, iv. 2.  476
  It is the curse of kings to be attended / By slaves, that take their humours for a warrant.    King John, iv. 2.  477
  There is no sure foundation set on blood; / No certain life achieved by others’ death.    King John, iv. 2.  478
  I am amazed, methinks, and lose my way / Among the thorns and dangers of the world.    King John, iv. 3.  479
  Trust not those cunning waters of his eyes, for villany is not without such rheum.    King John, iv. 3.  480
  Be stirring as the time; be fire with fire; / Threaten the threatner, and outface the brow / Of bragging horror; so shall inferior eyes, / That borrow their behaviours from the great, / Grow great by your example, and put on / The dauntless spirit of resolution.    King John, v. 1.  481
  Threaten the threatener, and outface the brow / Of bragging horror; so shall inferior eyes, / That borrow their behaviours from the great, / Grow great by your example, and put on / The dauntless spirit of resolution.    King John, v. 1.  482
  Come the three corners of the world in arms, / And we shall shock them. Nought shall make us rue, / If England to itself do rest but true.    King John, v. 7.  483
  Each day still better other’s happiness, / Until the heavens, envying earth’s good hap, / Add an immortal title to your crown.    Richard II., i. 1.  484
  Mine honour my life is; both grow in one; / Take honour from me, and my life is done.    Richard II., i. 1.  485
  The more fair and crystal is the sky, / The uglier seem the clouds that in it fly.    Richard II., i. 1.  486
  The purest treasure mortal times afford / Is spotless reputation; that away, / Men are but gilded loam or painted clay.    Richard II., i. 1.  487
  Grief boundeth where it falls, / Not with an empty hollowness, but weight.    Richard II., i. 2.  488
  That which in mean men we entitle patience, / Is pale cold cowardice in noble breasts.    Richard II., i. 2.  489
  Fell sorrow’s tooth doth never rankle more / Than when it bites but lanceth not the sore.    Richard II., i. 3.  490
  Gnarling sorrow hath less power to bite / The man that mocks at it and sets it light.    Richard II., i. 3.  491
  Grief makes one hour ten.    Richard II., i. 3.  492
  The apprehension of the good / Gives but the greater feeling to the worse.    Richard II., i. 3.  493
  Truth has a quiet breast.    Richard II., i. 3.  494
  Where’er I wander, boast of this I can, / Though banished, yet a true-born Englishman.    Richard II., i. 3.  495
  Woe does the heavier sit / Where it perceives it is but faintly borne.    Richard II., i. 3.  496
  But by bad courses may be understood, / That their events can never fall out good.    Richard II., ii. 1.  497
  Deal mildly with his youth; / For young hot colts, being raged, do rage the more.    Richard II., ii. 1.  498
  His rash, fierce blaze of riot cannot last, / For violent fires soon outburn themselves.    Richard II., ii. 1.  499
  The tongues of dying men / Enforce attention like deep harmony.    Richard II., ii. 1.  500
  When words are scarce they’re seldom spent in vain, / For they breathe truth that breathe their words in pain.    Richard II., ii. 1.  501
  Young hot colts, being raged, do rage the more.    Richard II., ii. 1.  502
  Comfort’s in heaven; and we are on the earth, / Where nothing lives but crosses, care, and grief.    Richard II., ii. 2.  503
  Each substance of a grief hath twenty shadows, / Which show like grief itself, but are not so; / For sorrow’s eye, glazed with blinding tears, / Divides one thing entire to many objects.    Richard II., ii. 2.  504
  Where words are scarce, they are seldom spent in vain.    Richard II., ii. 2.  505
  Evermore thanks, the exchequer of the poor.    Richard II., ii. 3.  506
  Hope to joy is little less in joy / Than hope enjoyed.    Richard II., ii. 3.  507
  Not all the water in the rough rude sea / Can wash the balm from an anointed king; / The breath of worldly men cannot depose / The deputy elected by the Lord.    Richard II., iii 2.  508
  Eating the bitter bread of banishment.    Richard II., iii. 1.  509
  Death will have his day.    Richard II., iii. 2.  510
  The means that Heaven yields must be embraced, / And not neglected.    Richard II., iii. 2.  511
  To fear the foe, since fear oppresseth strength, / Gives, in your weakness, strength unto your foe.    Richard II., iii. 2.  512
  To fight and die is death destroying death; / Where fearing dying, pays death servile breath.    Richard II., iii. 2.  513
  Within the hollow crown / That rounds the mortal temples of a king, / Keeps Death his court.    Richard II., iii. 2.  514
  They well deserve to have / That know the strong’st and surest way to get.    Richard II., iii. 3.  515
  Noisome weeds that without profit suck / The soil’s fertility from wholesome flowers.    Richard II., iii. 4.  516
  Root away / The noisome weeds, which without profit suck / The soil’s fertility from wholesome flowers.    Richard II., iii. 4.  517
  External manners of lament / Are merely shadows to the unseen grief / That swells with silence in the tortured soul.    Richard II., iv. 1.  518
  Gave / His body to that pleasant country’s earth, / And his pure soul unto his captain Christ, / Under whose colours he had fought so long.    Richard II., iv. i.  519
  Better far off, than—near, be ne’er the near’.    Richard II., v. 1.  520
  As in a theatre, the eyes of men, / After a well-graced actor leaves the stage, / Are idly bent on him that enters next, / Thinking his prattle to be tedious.    Richard II., v. 2.  521
  How sour sweet music is, when time is broke and no proportion kept! So is it in the music of men’s lives.    Richard II., v. 5.  522
  I wasted time, and now doth time waste me.    Richard II., v. 5.  523
  No thought is contented. The better sort, / As thoughts of things divine, are intermixed / With scruples, and do set the word itself / Against the word.    Richard II., v. 5.  524
  They love not poison that do poison need.    Richard II., v. 6.  525
  Holy fields, / Over whose acres walked those blessed feet / Which fourteen hundred years ago were nail’d, / For our advantage, on the bitter cross.    1 Henry IV., i. 1.  526
  Those holy fields / Over whose acres walked those blesséd feet / Which, fourteen hundred years ago were nailed, / For our advantage, on the bitter cross.    1 Henry IV., i. 1.  527
  ’Tis my vocation, Hal; ’tis no sin for a man to labour in his vocation.    1 Henry IV., i. 2.  528
  For wisdom cries out in the streets, and no man regards it.    1 Henry IV., i. 2.  529
  Give the devil his due.    1 Henry IV., i. 2.  530
  If all the year were playing holidays, / To sport would be as tedious as to work.    1 Henry IV., i. 2.  531
  Nothing pleaseth but rare accidents.    1 Henry IV., i. 2.  532
  Fresh as a bridegroom, and his chin, new reap’d, / Show’d like a stubble-field at harvest-home; / He was perfuméd like a milliner, / And ’twixt his finger and his thumb he held / A pouncet-box, which ever and anon / He gave his nose, and took ’t away again.    1 Henry IV., i. 3.  533
  God save the mark.    1 Henry IV., i. 3.  534
  He was perfumed like a milliner, / And ’twixt his finger and his thumb he held / A pouncet-box, which ever and anon / He gave his nose, and took ’t away again.    1 Henry IV., i. 3.  535
  The blood more stirs / To rouse a lion than to start a hare.    1 Henry IV., i. 3.  536
  A plague of sighing and grief; it blows a man up like a bladder.    1 Henry IV., i. 4.  537
  Homo is a common name to all men.    1 Henry IV., ii. 1.  538
  I can teach you to command the devil, / And I can teach you to shame the devil, / By telling truth.    1 Henry IV., ii. 1.  539
  Out of this nettle danger we pluck this flower safety.    1 Henry IV., ii. 3.  540
  Give you a reason on compulsion? If reasons were as plenty as blackberries, I would give no man a reason upon compulsion.    1 Henry IV., ii. 4.  541
  Here I lay, and thus I bore my point.    1 Henry IV., ii. 4.  542
  If reasons were as plenty as blackberries, I would give no man a reason upon compulsion.    1 Henry IV., ii. 4.  543
  In King Cambyses’ vein.    1 Henry IV., ii. 4.  544
  Instinct is a great matter; I was a coward on instinct.    1 Henry IV., ii. 4.  545
  Nay, that’s past praying for.    1 Henry IV., ii. 4.  546
  The camomile, the more it is trodden on, the faster it grows; yet youth, the more it is wasted, the sooner it wears.    1 Henry IV., ii. 4.  547
  “I can call spirits from the vasty deep.” “Why, so can I, or so can any man; but will they come when you do call for them?”    1 Henry IV., iii. 1.  548
  Diseased nature oftentimes breaks forth / In strange eruptions, and the teeming earth / Is with a kind of cholic pinch’d and vex’d / By the imprisoning of unruly wind / Within her womb, which, for enlargement striving, / Shakes the old beldam earth, and topples down / Steeples and moss-grown towers.    1 Henry IV., iii. 1.  549
  I will give thrice as much to any well-deserving friend; but in the way of bargain, mark me, I will cavil on the ninth part of a hair.    1 Henry IV., iii. 1.  550
  Tell the truth and shame the devil.    1 Henry IV., iii. 1.  551
  While you live, tell truth and shame the devil.    1 Henry IV., iii. 1.  552
  Company, villanous company, has been the spoil of me.    1 Henry IV., iii. 3.  553
  Food for powder.    1 Henry IV., iv. 2.  554
  Honour hath no skill in surgery…. Honour is a mere scutcheon.    1 Henry IV., v. 1.  555
  I would it were bed-time, Hal, and all well.    1 Henry IV., v. 1.  556
  Suspicion shall be all stuck full of eyes.    1 Henry IV., v. 1.  557
  Look how we can, or sad or merrily, / Interpretation will misquote our looks.    1 Henry IV., v. 2.  558
  But thought’s the slave of life, and life time’s fool; / And time, that takes survey of all the world, / Must have a stop.    1 Henry IV., v. 4.  559
  I could have better spared a better man.    1 Henry IV., v. 4.  560
  The better part of valour is discretion.    1 Henry IV., v. 4.  561
  Thoughts (are) the slaves of life, and life time’s fool; / And time, that takes survey of all the world, / Must have a stop.    1 Henry IV., v. 4.  562
  Two stars keep not their motion in one sphere.    1 Henry IV., v. 4.  563
  Rumour is a pipe / Blown by surmises, jealousies, conjectures; / And of so easy and so plain a stop / That the blunt monster with uncounted heads, / The still-discordant wavering multitude, / Can play upon it.    2 Henry IV., Induc.  564
  Contention, like a horse / Full of high feeding, madly hath broken loose, / And bears all down before him.    2 Henry IV., i. 1.  565
  It was alway yet the trick of our English nation, if they have a good thing, to make it too common.    2 Henry IV., i. 2.  566
  Past and to come seem best, things present worst.    2 Henry IV., i. 2.  567
  O thoughts of men accurst! / Past and to come seem best; things present, worst.    2 Henry IV., i. 3.  568
  Thus we play the fools with the time; and the spirits of the wise sit in the clouds, and mock us.    2 Henry IV., ii. 2.  569
  We play the fools with the time, and the spirits of the wise sit in the clouds and mock us.    2 Henry IV., ii. 2.  570
  Happy lowly clown! / Uneasy lies the head that wears a crown!    2 Henry IV., iii. 1.  571
  O sleep, O gentle sleep, / Nature’s soft nurse! how have I frighted thee, / That thou no more wilt weigh my eyelids down, / And steep my senses in forgetfulness!    2 Henry IV., iii. 1.  572
  O, if this were seen, / The happiest youth—viewing his progress through / What perils past, what crosses to ensue— / Would shut the book and sit him down and die.    2 Henry IV., iii. 1.  573
  Sleep, gentle sleep, / Nature’s soft nurse, how have I frighted thee, / That thou no more wilt weigh my eyelids down, / And steep my senses in forgetfulness?    2 Henry IV., iii. 1.  574
  There is a history in all men’s lives, / Figuring the nature of the times deceased; / The which observed, a man may prophesy, / With a near aim of the main chance of things / As yet not come to life: which, in their seeds / And weak beginnings, lie intreasurèd.    2 Henry IV., iii. 1.  575
  Uneasy lies the head that wears a crown.    2 Henry IV., iii. 1.  576
  Why rather, sleep, liest thou in smoky cribs, / Upon uneasy pallets stretching thee, / And hush’d with buzzing night-flies to thy slumber, / Than in the perfumed chambers of the great, / Under the canopies of costly state, / And lull’d with sounds of sweetest melody?    2 Henry IV., iii. 1.  577
  With all appliances and means to boot.    2 Henry IV., iii. 1.  578
  Great men oft die by vile Bezonians.    2 Henry IV., iv. 1.  579
  He hath a tear for pity, and a hand / Open as day for melting charity.    2 Henry IV., iv. 4.  580
  How quickly Nature falls into revolt / When gold becomes her object!    2 Henry IV., iv. 4.  581
  Most subject is the fattest soil to weeds.    2 Henry IV., iv. 4.  582
  The wish was father to the thought.    2 Henry IV., iv. 4.  583
  Thy wish was father, Harry, to that thought.    2 Henry IV., iv. 4.  584
  It is certain that either wise bearing or ignorant carriage is caught as men take diseases, one of another.    2 Henry IV., v. 1.  585
  How ill white hairs become a fool and a jester.    2 Henry IV., v. 5.  586
  Consideration, like an angel, came, / And whipp’d th’ offending Adam out of him, / Leaving his body as a paradise, / To envelop and contain celestial spirits.    Henry V., i. 1.  587
  List his discourse of war, and you shall hear / A fearful battle render’d you in music; / Turn him to any cause of policy, / The Gordian Knot of it he will unloose, / Familiar as his garter.    Henry V., i. 1.  588
  Miracles are ceased, and therefore we must needs admit the means, how things are perfected.    Henry V., i. 1.  589
  The strawberry grows under the nettle, / And wholesome berries thrive and ripen best / Neighbour’d by fruit of baser quality.    Henry V., i. 1.  590
  Turn him to any cause of policy, / The Gordian knot of it he will unloose, / Familiar as his garter.    Henry V., i. 1.  591
  When he speaks, / The air, a charter’d libertine, is still.    Henry V., i. 1.  592
  Wholesome berries thrive and ripen best, / Neighbour’d by fruit of baser quality.    Henry V., i. 1.  593
  ’Tis ever common that men are merriest when they are from home.    Henry V., i. 2.  594
  If we … / Cannot defend our own doors from the dog, / Let us be worried, and our nation lose / The name of hardiness and policy.    Henry V., i. 2.  595
  No woman shall succeed in Salique land.    Henry V., i. 2.  596
  So work the honey bees; / Creatures that, by a rule in Nature, teach / The art of order to a peopled kingdom.    Henry V., i. 2.  597
  That’s the humour of it.    Henry V., ii. 1.  598
  This is the humour of it.    Henry V., ii. 1.  599
  For oaths are straws, men’s faith are wafer cakes, / And holdfast is the only dog, my duck.    Henry V., ii. 3.  600
  Oaths are straws,… and holdfast is the only dog.    Henry V., ii. 3.  601
  Coward dogs / Most spend their mouths when what they seem to threaten / Runs far before them.    Henry V., ii. 4.  602
  Self love is not so vile a sin / As self-neglecting.    Henry V., ii. 4.  603
  In peace, there’s nothing so becomes a man / As modest stillness and humility; / But when the blast of war blows in our ears, / Then imitate the action of the tiger; / Stiffen the sinews, summon up the blood, / Disguise fair Nature with hard-favour’d rage, / Then lend the eye a terrible aspect; / Let it pry through the portage of the head / Like the brass cannons.    Henry V., iii. 1.  604
  Ye good yeomen, whose limbs were made in England.    Henry V., iii. 1.  605
  He has a killing tongue and a quiet sword, by the means whereof a’ breaks words and keeps whole weapons.    Henry V., iii. 2.  606
  I would give all my fame for a pot of ale and safety.    Henry V., iii. 2.  607
  Men of few words are the best men.    Henry V., iii. 2.  608
  What rein can hold licentious wickedness / When down the hill he holds his fierce career?    Henry V., iii. 3.  609
  Advantage is a better soldier than rashness.    Henry V., iii. 6.  610
  A fool’s bolt is soon shot.    Henry V., iii. 7.  611
  Doing is activity; and he will still be doing.    Henry V., iii. 7.  612
  From camp to camp, through the foul womb of night, / The hum of either army stilly sounds, / That the fix’d sentinels almost receive / The secret whispers of each other’s watch; / Fire answers fire, and through their paly flames / Each battle sees the other’s umber’d face; / Steed threatens steed in high and boastful neighs, / Piercing the night’s dull ear, and from the tents / The armourers, accomplishing the knights, / With busy hammers closing rivets up, / Give dreadful note of preparation.    Henry V., iv. (chorus).  613
  Every subject’s duty is the king’s, but every subject’s soul is his own.    Henry V., iv. 1.  614
  There is some soul of goodness in things evil, / Would men observingly distil it out.    Henry V., iv. 1.  615
  We are in great danger; / The greater therefore should our courage be.    Henry V., iv. 1.  616
  What have kings that privates have not too, / Save ceremony, save general ceremony?    Henry V., iv. 1.  617
  Household words.    Henry V., iv. 3.  618
  The empty vessel makes the greatest sound.    Henry V., iv. 4.  619
  Maids well summered, and warm kept, are like flies at Bartholomew-tide—blind, though they have their eyes.    Henry V., v. 2.  620
  This day / Shall change all griefs and quarrels into love.    Henry V., v. 2.  621
  Glory is like a circle in the water, / Which never ceaseth to enlarge itself, / Till, by broad spreading, it disperse to naught.    1 Henry VI., i. 2.  622
  Unbidden guests / Are often welcomest when they are gone.    1 Henry VI., ii. 2.  623
  No, no! I am but shadow of myself; / You are deceived, my substance is not here.    1 Henry VI., ii. 3.  624
  What you see is but the smallest part / And least proportion of humanity; / … Were the whole frame here, / It is of such a spacious lofty pitch, / Your roof were not sufficient to contain it.    1 Henry VI., ii. 3.  625
  If I for my opinion bleed, / Opinion shall be surgeon to my hurt.    1 Henry VI., ii. 4.  626
  Civil dissension is a viperous worm / That gnaws the bowels of the commonwealth.    1 Henry VI., iii. 1.  627
  Defer no time; / Delays have dangerous ends.    1 Henry VI., iii. 2.  628
  Care is no cure, but rather a corrosive, / For things that are not to be remedied.    1 Henry VI., iii. 3.  629
  Strike those that hurt, and hurt not those that help.    1 Henry VI., iii. 3.  630
  The quarrel toucheth none but us alone, / Betwixt ourselves let us decide it then.    1 Henry VI., iv. 1.  631
  She’s beautiful, and therefore to be woo’d; / She’s a woman, and therefore to be won.    1 Henry VI., v. 3.  632
  O Lord, that lend’st me life, / Lend me a heart replete with thankfulness!    2 Henry VI., i. 1.  633
  Thou hast given me / A world of earthly blessings to my soul, / If sympathy of love unite our thoughts.    2 Henry VI., i. 1.  634
  Banish the canker of ambitious thoughts.    2 Henry VI., i. 2.  635
  She bears a duke’s revenues on her back.    2 Henry VI., i. 3.  636
  ’Tis but a base, ignoble mind / That mounts no higher than a bird can soar.    2 Henry VI., ii. 1.  637
  Let never day nor night unhallow’d pass, / But still remember what the Lord hath done.    2 Henry VI., ii. 1.  638
  My joy is death;— / Death, at whose name I oft have been afeared, / Because I wish’d this world’s eternity.    2 Henry VI., ii. 4.  639
  Sort thy heart to patience; / These few days’ wonder will be quickly worn.    2 Henry VI., ii. 4.  640
  Now ’tis the spring, and weeds are shallow-rooted; / Suffer them now, and they’ll o’ergrow the garden, / And choke the herbs for want of husbandry.    2 Henry VI., iii. 1.  641
  Small curs are not regarded when they grin; / But great men tremble when the lion roars.    2 Henry VI., iii. 1.  642
  Smooth runs the water where the brook is deep; / And in his simple show he harbours treason. / The fox barks not when he would steal the lamb.    2 Henry VI., iii. 1.  643
  Virtue is choked with foul ambition.    2 Henry VI., iii. 1.  644
  What’s more miserable than discontent?    2 Henry VI., iii. 1.  645
  Thrice is he arm’d that hath his quarrel just; / And he but naked, though locked up in steel, / Whose conscience with injustice is corrupted.    2 Henry VI., iii. 2.  646
  What stronger breastplate than a heart untainted!    2 Henry VI., iii. 2.  647
  Forbear to judge, for we are sinners all.    2 Henry VI., iii. 3.  648
  Rather let my head stoop to the block than these knees bow to any save to the God of heaven.    2 Henry VI., iv. 1.  649
  There is no better sign of a brave mind than a hard hand.    2 Henry VI., iv. 2.  650
  Now join your hands, and with your hands your hearts, / That no dissension hinder government.    2 Henry VI., iv. 6.  651
  Ignorance is the curse of God, knowledge the wing wherewith we fly to heaven.    2 Henry VI., iv. 7.  652
  Knowledge, the wing wherewith we fly to heaven.    2 Henry VI., iv. 7.  653
  I seek not to wax great by others’ waning.    2 Henry VI., iv. 10.  654
  It is a great sin to swear unto a sin, / But a greater still to keep a sinful oath.    2 Henry VI., v. 1.  655
  Let them obey that know not how to rule.    2 Henry VI., v. 1.  656
  Priests pray for enemies, but princes kill.    2 Henry VI., v. 2.  657
  “What says Lord Warwick? Shall we after them?” “After them! Nay, before them, if we can.”    2 Henry VI., v. 3.  658
  Patience is good for poltroons.    3 Henry VI., i. 1.  659
  Who can be patient in extremes?    3 Henry VI., i. 1.  660
  ’Tis beauty that doth oft make women proud; / ’Tis virtue that doth make them most admired; / ’Tis government that makes them seem divine.    3 Henry VI., i. 4.  661
  Beggars, mounted, run their horse to death.    3 Henry VI., i. 4.  662
  It is war’s prize to take all advantages, / And ten to one is no impeach of valour.    3 Henry VI., i. 4.  663
  Hercules himself must yield to odds; / And many strokes, though with a little axe, / Hew down and fell the hardest-timber’d oak.    3 Henry VI., ii. 1.  664
  Many strokes, though with a little axe, / Hew down and fell the hardest timber’d oak.    3 Henry IV., ii. 1.  665
  Sound trumpets!—let our bloody colours wave; / And either victory or else a grave.    3 Henry VI., ii. 2.  666
  The smallest worm will turn, being trodden on; / And doves will peck, in safeguard of their brood.    3 Henry VI., ii. 2.  667
  Things ill got had ever bad success…. I’ll leave my son my virtuous deeds behind.    3 Henry VI., ii. 2.  668
  Our hap is lost, our hope but sad despair.    3 Henry VI., ii. 3.  669
  Gives not the hawthorn bush a sweeter shade / To shepherds, looking on their silly sheep, / Than doth a rich embroider’d canopy / To kings that fear their subjects’ treachery.    3 Henry VI., ii. 5.  670
  Whilst lions war and battle for their dens, / Poor harmless lambs abide their enmity.    3 Henry VI., ii. 5.  671
  Some troops pursue the bloody-minded queen / That led calm Henry.    3 Henry VI., ii. 6.  672
  What doth cherish weeds, but gentle air? / And what makes robbers bold, but too much lenity?    3 Henry VI., ii. 6.  673
  Look, as I blow this feather from my face, / And as the air blows it to me again / … Commanded always by the greater gust; / Such is the lightness of you common men.    3 Henry VI., iii. 1.  674
  Impatience waiteth on true sorrow.    3 Henry VI., iii. 3.  675
  Yield not thy neck / To fortune’s yoke, but let thy dauntless mind / Still ride in triumph over all mischance.    3 Henry VI., iii. 3.  676
  England is safe if true within itself.    3 Henry VI., iv. 1.  677
  I hear, yet say not much, but think the more.    3 Henry VI., iv. 1.  678
  Let us be back’d with God, and with the seas, / Which He hath given for fence impregnable, / And with these helps only defend ourselves; / In them, and in ourselves, our safety lies.    3 Henry VI., iv. 1.  679
  I hold it cowardice / To rest mistrustful where a noble heart / Hath pawn’d an open hand in sign of love.    3 Henry VI., iv. 2.  680
  What fates impose, that men must needs abide; / It boots not to resist both wind and tide.    3 Henry VI., iv. 3.  681
  Trust not him that hath once broken faith.    3 Henry VI., iv. 4.  682
  Fearless minds climb soonest into crowns.    3 Henry VI., iv. 7.  683
  A little fire is quickly trodden out; / Which being suffered, rivers cannot quench.    3 Henry VI., iv. 8.  684
  What is the body when the head is off?    3 Henry VI., v. 1.  685
  Live we how we can, yet die we must.    3 Henry VI., v. 2.  686
  Every cloud engenders not a storm.    3 Henry VI., v. 3.  687
  What cannot be avoided, / ’Twere childish weakness to lament or fear.    3 Henry VI., v. 4.  688
  Wise men ne’er sit and wail their loss, / But cheerly seek how to redress their harms.    3 Henry VI., v. 4.  689
  Suspicion always haunts the guilty mind; / The thief doth fear each bush an officer.    3 Henry VI., v. 6.  690
  A pity that the eagle should be mew’d, / While kites and buzzards prey at liberty.    Richard III., i. 1.  691
  Deformed, unfinished, sent before my time / Into this breathing world, scarce half made up, / And that so lamely and unfashionable, / That dogs bark at me as I halt by them.    Richard III., i. 1.  692
  Grim-visaged war hath smooth’d his wrinkled front…. He capers nimbly in a lady’s chamber, / To the lascivious pleasing of a lute.    Richard III., i. 1.  693
  The winter of our discontent.    Richard III., i. 1.  694
  Leave this keen encounter of our wits, / And fall somewhat into a slower method.    Richard III., i. 2.  695
  No beast so fierce but knows some touch of pity.    Richard III., i. 2.  696
  Was ever woman in this humour woo’d? / Was ever woman in this humour won?    Richard III., i. 2.  697
  You know no rules of charity, / Which renders good for bad, blessings for curses.    Richard III., i. 2.  698
  Since every Jack became a gentleman, / There’s many a gentle person made a Jack.    Richard III., i. 3.  699
  Talkers are no good doers.    Richard III., i. 3.  700
  They that stand high have many blasts to shake them; and if they fall, they dash themselves to pieces.    Richard III., i. 3.  701
  Sorrow breaks seasons and reposing hours, / Makes the night morning and the noontide night.    Richard III., i. 4.  702
  ’Tis death to me to be at enmity; / I hate it, and desire all good men’s love.    Richard III., ii. 1.  703
  We have done deeds of charity, / Made peace of enmity, fair love of hate.    Richard III., ii. 1.  704
  Ah! that deceit should steal such gentle shapes / And with a virtuous visor hide deep vice.    Richard III., ii. 2.  705
  None can cure their harms by wailing them.    Richard III., ii. 2.  706
  When clouds appear, wise men put on their cloaks; / When great leaves fall, the winter is at hand.    Richard III., ii. 3.  707
  Woe to that land that’s govern’d by a child.    Richard III., ii. 3.  708
  Small herbs have grace, great weeds do grow apace.    Richard III., ii. 4.  709
  Sweet flowers are slow, and weeds make haste.    Richard III., ii. 4.  710
  No more can you distinguish of a man / Than of his outward show; which, God he knows, / Seldom or never jumpeth with the heart.    Richard III., iii. 1.  711
  So wise, so young, they say, do ne’er live long.    Richard III., iii. 1.  712
  ’Tis a vile thing to die … / When men are unprepar’d and look not for it.    Richard III., iii. 2.  713
  When holy and devout religious men / Are at their beads, ’tis hard to draw them thence.    Richard III., iii. 7.  714
  Off with his head! so much for Buckingham.    Richard III., iv. 3.  715
  “Why should calamity be full of words?” / “Let them have scope; though what they do impart / Help not at all, yet do they ease the heart.”    Richard III., iv. 4.  716
  An honest tale speeds best, being plainly told.    Richard III., iv. 4.  717
  Rest thy unrest in England’s lawful earth.    Richard III., iv. 4.  718
  True hope is swift, and flies with swallow’s wings; / Kings it makes gods, and meaner creatures kings.    Richard III., v. 2.  719
  Conscience is but a word that cowards use, / Devised at first to keep the strong in awe; / Our strong arms be our conscience, swords our law.    Richard III., v. 3.  720
  Shadows to-night / Have struck more terror to the soul of Richard / Than can the substance of ten thousand soldiers.    Richard III., v. 3.  721
  A horse! a horse! my kingdom for a horse.    Richard III., v. 4.  722
  I have set my life upon a cast, / And I will stand the hazard of the die.    Richard III., v. 4.  723
  Heat not a furnace for your foe so hot / That it doth singe yourself.    Henry VIII., i. 1.  724
  Let your reason with your choler question…. To climb steep hills / Requires slow pace at first.    Henry VIII., i. 1.  725
  No man’s pie is freed / From his ambitious finger.    Henry VIII., i. 1.  726
  To climb steep hills requires slow pace at first.    Henry VIII., i. 1.  727
  We may outrun / By violent swiftness that which we run at, / And lose by overrunning.    Henry VIII., i. 1.  728
  Anger is like / A full-hot horse; who, being allow’d his way, / Self-mettle tires him.    Henry VIII., i. 2.  729
  Love yourself, and in that love / Not unconsidered leave your honour.    Henry VIII., i. 2.  730
  We must not stint / Our necessary actions, in the fear / To cope malicious censurers; which ever, / As ravenous fishes, do a vessel follow / That is new trimmed, but benefit no further / Than vainly longing.    Henry VIII., i. 2.  731
  ’Tis better to be lowly born, / And range with humble livers in content, / Than to be perked up in a glistering grief, / And wear a golden sorrow.    Henry VIII., ii. 2.  732
  I love him not, nor fear him; there’s my creed.    Henry VIII., ii. 2.  733
  Our content / Is our best having.    Henry VIII., ii. 3.  734
  Heaven is above all yet; there sits a Judge / That no king can corrupt.    Henry VIII., iii. 1.  735
  Truth loves open dealing.    Henry VIII., iii. 1.  736
  ’Tis a kind of good deed to say well: / And yet words are no deeds.    Henry VIII., iii. 2.  737
  Be just and fear not; / Let all the ends thou aim’st at be thy country’s, / Thy God’s, and truth’s.    Henry VIII., iii. 2.  738
  Farewell, a long farewell to all my greatness! / This is the state of man: to-day he puts forth / The tender leaves of hope, to-morrow blossoms, / And bears his blushing honours thick upon him: / The third day comes a frost, a killing frost: / And when he thinks, good easy man, full surely / His greatness is a-ripening, nips his root, / And then he falls, as I do.    Henry VIII., iii. 2.  739
  Fling away ambition; / By that sin fell the angels; how can man, then, / The image of his Maker, hope to win by it?    Henry VIII., iii. 2.  740
  Had I but serv’d my God with half the zeal / I serv’d my king, He would not in mine age / Have left me naked to mine enemies.    Henry VIII., iii. 2.  741
  I charge thee, fling away ambition; / By that sin fell the angels.    Henry VIII., iii. 2.  742
  I feel within me a peace above all earthly dignities, a still and quiet conscience.    Henry VIII., iii. 2.  743
  O how wretched / Is that poor man that hangs on princes’ favours! / There is betwixt that smile he would aspire to, / That sweet aspect of princes, and their ruin, / More pangs and fears than wars or women have; / And when he falls, he falls like Lucifer, / Never to hope again.    Henry VIII., iii. 2.  744
  Still in thy right hand carry gentle peace, / To silence envious tongues.    Henry VIII., iii. 2.  745
  This is the state of man: to-day he puts forth / The tender leaves of hopes; to-morrow blossoms, / And bears his blushing honours thick upon him; / The third day comes a frost, a killing frost; / And when he thinks, good easy man, full surely / His greatness is a-ripening, nips his root, / And then he falls, as I do.    Henry VIII., iii. 2.  746
  Vain pomp and glory of this world, I hate ye.    Henry VIII., iii. 2.  747
  From his cradle / He was a scholar, and a ripe and good one; / Exceeding wise, fair-spoken, and persuading; / Lofty and sour to them that loved him not, / But to those men who sought him, sweet as summer; / And to add greater honours to his age / Than man could give; he died fearing God.    Henry VIII., iv. 2.  748
  He gave his honours to the world again, / His blessed part to heaven, and slept in peace.    Henry VIII., iv. 2.  749
  He was a scholar, and a ripe and good one; / Exceeding wise, fair spoken, and persuading; / Lofty and sour to them that loved him not; / But to those men that sought him, sweet as summer.    Henry VIII., iv. 2.  750
  Men’s evil manners live in brass; their virtues / We write in water.    Henry VIII., iv. 2.  751
  So may he rest; his faults lie gently on him.    Henry VIII., iv. 2.  752
  You have many enemies that know not / Why they are so, but, like to village curs, / Bark when their fellows do.    Henry VIII., iv. 2.  753
  ’Tis a cruelty / To load a falling man.    Henry VIII., v. 2.  754
  Dance attendance on their lordships’ pleasure.    Henry VIII., v. 2.  755
  To dance attendance on their lordships’ pleasures.    Henry VIII., v. 2.  756
  Men that make / Envy and crooked malice nourishment / Dare bite the best.    Henry VIII., v. 3.  757
  Sorrow that is couched in seeming gladness / Is like that mirth fate turns to sudden sadness.    Troil. and Cress., i. 1.  758
  Men prize the thing ungained more than it is.    Troil. and Cress., i. 2.  759
  No man hath a virtue that he has not a glimpse of; nor any man an attaint, but he carries some stain of it.    Troil. and Cress., i. 2.  760
  Things won are done; joy’s soul lies in the doing.    Troil. and Cress., i. 2.  761
  Blunt edges rive hard knots.    Troil. and Cress., i. 3.  762
  Distinction, with a broad and powerful fan / Puffing at all, winnows the light away.    Troil. and Cress., i. 3.  763
  ’Tis mad idolatry / To make the service greater than the god.    Troil. and Cress., ii. 2.  764
  Modest doubt is called / The beacon of the wise, the tent that searches / To the bottom of the worst.    Troil. and Cress., ii. 2.  765
  Pleasure and revenge / Have ears more deaf than adders to the voice / Of any true decision.    Troil. and Cress., ii. 2.  766
  What is aught but as ’tis valued?    Troil. and Cress., ii. 2.  767
  What’s aught but as ’tis valued?    Troil. and Cress., ii. 2.  768
  He that is proud eats up himself; pride is his own glass, his own trumpet, his own chronicle; and whatever praises itself but in the deed devours the deed in the praise.    Troil. and Cress., ii. 3.  769
  This is the monstrosity in love—that the will is infinite, and the execution confined; that the desire is boundless, and the act a slave to limit.    Troil. and Cress., iii. 2.  770
  To be wise and love exceeds man’s might.    Troil. and Cress., iii. 2.  771
  Who shall be true to us, / When we are so unsecret to ourselves?    Troil. and Cress., iii. 2.  772
  Words pay no debts.    Troil. and Cress., iii. 2.  773
  For emulation hath a thousand sons, / That one by one pursue; if you give way, / Or hedge aside from the direct forthright, / Like to an enter’d tide, they all rush by, / And leave you hindmost.    Troil. and Cress., iii. 3.  774
  Greatness, once fallen out with fortune, / Must fall out with men too; what the declined is, / He shall as soon read in the eyes of others / As feel in his own fall.    Troil. and Cress., iii. 3.  775
  Honour travels in a strait so narrow, / Where one but goes abreast.    Troil. and Cress., iii. 3.  776
  Light boats sail swift, though greater hulks draw deep.    Troil. and Cress., iii. 3.  777
  Love, friendship, charity are subjects all / To envious and calumniating time.    Troil. and Cress., iii. 3.  778
  Not a man, for being simply man, / Hath any honour, but honour for those honours / That are without him, as place, riches, favour, / Prizes of accident, as oft as merit.    Troil. and Cress., iii. 3.  779
  One touch of Nature makes the whole world kin.    Troil. and Cress., iii. 3.  780
  Perseverance, dear, my lord, / Keeps honour bright. To have done is to hang / Quite out of fashion, like a rusty mail, / In monumental mockery.    Troil. and Cress., iii. 3.  781
  Pride hath no other glass to show itself but pride.    Troil. and Cress., iii. 3.  782
  Time is like a fashionable host, / That slightly shakes his parting guest by the hand; / And with his arms outstretched, as he would fly, / Grasps in the comer.    Troil. and Cress., iii. 3.  783
  To have done, is to hang / Quite out of fashion, like a rusty mail, / In monumental mockery.    Troil. and Cress., iii. 3.  784
  The end crowns all, / And that old common arbitrator, Time, / Will one day end it.    Troil. and Cress., iv. 5.  785
  There’s language in her eye, her cheeks, her lip, / Nay, her foot speaks.    Troil. and Cress., iv. 5.  786
  Life every man holds dear; but the brave man / Holds honour far more precious dear than life.    Troil. and Cress., v. 3.  787
  You are transported by calamity / Thither where more attends you.    Coriolanus, i. 1.  788
  Every man has a bag hanging before him in which he puts his neighbour’s faults, and another behind him in which he stows his own.    Coriolanus, ii. 1.  789
  Nature teaches beasts to know their friends.    Coriolanus, ii. 1.  790
  O that you could turn your eyes toward the napes of your necks, and make but an interior survey of your good selves!    Coriolanus, ii. 1.  791
  His nature is too noble for the world; / He would not flatter Neptune for his trident, / Or Jove for his power to thunder.    Coriolanus, iii. 1.  792
  Purpose barred, it follows, / Nothing is done to purpose.    Coriolanus, iii. 1.  793
  What is the city but the people? True, the people are the city.    Coriolanus, iii. 1.  794
  Common chances common men can bear.    Coriolanus, iv. 1.  795
  Extremity is the trier of spirits.    Coriolanus, iv. 1.  796
  You were used / To say, extremity was the trier of spirits; / That common chances common men could bear; / That when the sea was calm, all boats alike / Showed mastership in floating.    Coriolanus, iv. 1.  797
  Our / Virtues lie in the interpretation of the time.    Coriolanus, iv. 7.  798
  Chaste as the icicle / That’s curded by the frost from purest snow, / And hangs on Dian’s temple.    Coriolanus, v. 3.  799
  There is differency between a grub and a butterfly; yet your butterfly was a grub.    Coriolanus, v. 4.  800
  Wilt thou draw near the nature of the gods? Draw near them, then, in being merciful.    Shakespeare, Tit. Andron., i. 1.  801
  Sweet mercy is nobility’s true badge.    Tit. Andron., i. 2.  802
  More water glideth by the mill / Than wots the miller of.    Tit. Andron., ii. 1.  803
  She is a woman, therefore may be wooed; she is a woman, therefore may be won.    Tit. Andron., ii. 1.  804
  A very excellent piece of villany.    Tit. Andron., ii. 3.  805
  Sorrow concealed, like an oven stopped, / Doth burn the heart to cinders where it is.    Tit, Andron., ii. 5.  806
  The eagle suffers little birds to sing.    Tit. Andron., iv. 4.  807
  Friends should associate friends in grief and woe.    Tit. Andron., v. 3.  808
  A madness most discreet, / A choking gall and a preserving sweet.—i.e., love is.    Romeo and Juliet, i. 1.  809
  Love is a smoke made with the fume of sighs; / Being purged, a fire sparkling in lovers’ eyes; / Being vex’d, a sea nourish’d with lovers’ tears: / What is it else? A madness most discreet, / A choking gall, and a preserving sweet.    Romeo and Juliet, i. 1.  810
  One fire burns out another’s burning; / One pain is lessen’d by another’s anguish.    Romeo and Juliet, i. 1.  811
  The weakest goes to the wall.    Romeo and Juliet, i. 1.  812
  Compare her face with some that I shall show, / And I will make thee think thy swan a crow.    Romeo and Juliet, i. 2.  813
  Come, we burn daylight.    Romeo and Juliet, i. 4.  814
  Dreams are the children of an idle brain, / Begot of nothing but vain phantasy; / Which are as thin of substance as the air, / And more inconstant than the wind.    Romeo and Juliet, i. 4.  815
  In delay / We waste our lights in vain, like lamps by day.    Romeo and Juliet, i. 4.  816
  Beauty too rich for use; for earth too dear.    Romeo and Juliet, i. 5.  817
  Care keeps his watch in every old man’s eye, / And where care lodges, sleep will never lie.    Romeo and Juliet, ii. 2.  818
  Dost thou love me? I know thou wilt say aye; / And I will take thy word. Yet if thou swear’st, / Thou may’st prove false; at lovers’ perjuries / They say Jove laughs.    Romeo and Juliet, ii. 2.  819
  Good-night, good-night; parting is such sweet sorrow / That I will say good-night till it be to-morrow.    Romeo and Juliet, ii. 2.  820
  He jests at scars that never felt a wound.    Romeo and Juliet, ii. 2.  821
  How silver-sweet sound lovers’ tongues by night, / Like softest music to attending ears!    Romeo and Juliet, ii. 2.  822
  Love goes toward love, as schoolboys from their books; / But love from love, toward school with heavy looks.    Romeo and Juliet, ii. 2.  823
  My bounty is as boundless as the sea, / My love as deep; the more I give to thee, / The more I have, for both are infinite.    Romeo and Juliet, ii. 2.  824
  Stony limits cannot hold love out; / And what love can do, that dares love attempt.    Romeo and Juliet, ii. 2.  825
  What love can do, that dares love attempt.    Romeo and Juliet, ii. 2.  826
  What’s in a name? That which we call a rose / By any other name would smell as sweet.    Romeo and Juliet, ii. 2.  827
  Earth, that’s Nature’s mother, is her tomb.    Romeo and Juliet, ii. 3.  828
  For nought so vile that on the earth doth live, / But to the earth some special good doth give; / Nor aught so good, but, strain’d from that fair use, / Revolts from true birth, stumbling on abuse.    Romeo and Juliet, ii. 3.  829
  Nought is so vile that on the earth doth live, / But to the earth some special good doth give; / Nor aught so good, but, strain’d from that fair use, / Revolts from true birth, stumbling on abuse.    Romeo and Juliet, ii. 3.  830
  The earth, that’s Nature’s mother, is her tomb.    Romeo and Juliet, ii. 3.  831
  Virtue itself turns vice, being misapplied, / And vice sometime ’s by action dignified.    Romeo and Juliet, ii. 3.  832
  Wisely and slow; they stumble that run fast.    Romeo and Juliet, ii. 3.  833
  Women may fall when there’s no strength in men.    Romeo and Juliet, ii. 3.  834
  A gentleman that will speak more in a minute than he will stand to in a month.    Romeo and Juliet, ii. 4.  835
  O flesh, flesh, how thou art fishified.    Romeo and Juliet, ii. 4.  836
  Love’s heralds should be thoughts, / Which ten times faster glide than the sun’s beams / Driving back shadows over lowering hills.    Romeo and Juliet, ii. 5.  837
  Come what sorrow can, / It cannot countervail th’ exchange of joy / That one short minute gives me in her sight.    Romeo and Juliet, ii. 6.  838
  Love moderately; long love doth so; / Too swift arrives as tardy as too slow.    Romeo and Juliet, ii. 6.  839
  These violent delights have violent ends.    Romeo and Juliet, ii. 6.  840
  They are but beggars that can count their worth.    Romeo and Juliet, ii. 6.  841
  Too swift arrives as tardy as too slow.    Romeo and Juliet, ii. 6.  842
  Violent delights have violent ends, / And in their triumph die, like fire and powder, / Which, as they kiss, consume.    Romeo and Juliet, ii. 6.  843
  I am fortune’s fool.    Romeo and Juliet, iii. 1.  844
  Mercy but murders, pardoning those that kill.    Romeo and Juliet, iii. 1.  845
  Thou! why, thou wilt quarrel with a man that hath a hair more or a hair less in his beard than thou hast. Thou wilt quarrel with a man for cracking nuts, having no other reason but because thou hast hazel eyes…. Thy head is full of quarrels as an egg is full of meat.    Romeo and Juliet, iii. 1.  846
  Come, civil night, / Thou sober-suited matron, all in black.    Romeo and Juliet, iii. 2.  847
  Give me my Romeo: and, when he shall die, / Take him and cut him out in little stars, / And he will make the face of heaven so fine / That all the world will be in love with night, / And pay no homage to the garish sun.    Romeo and Juliet, iii. 2.  848
  Sour woe delights in fellowship, / And needly will be rank’d with other griefs.    Romeo and Juliet, iii. 2.  849
  Adversity’s sweet milk—philosophy.    Romeo and Juliet, iii. 3.  850
  It was the nightingale, and not the lark / That pierced the fearful hollow of thine ear.    Romeo and Juliet, iii. 5.  851
  Night’s candles are burnt out, and jocund day / Stands tiptoe on the misty mountain-tops.    Romeo and Juliet, iii. 5.  852
  Some grief shows much of love, / But much of grief shows still more want of wit.    Romeo and Juliet, iii. 5.  853
  What must be, shall be.    Romeo and Juliet, iv. 1.  854
  Farewell! God knows when we shall meet again. / I have a faint cold fear thrills through my veins, / That almost freezes up the heat of life.    Romeo and Juliet, iv. 3.  855
  Death lies on her, like an untimely frost, / Upon the sweetest flower of all the field.    Romeo and Juliet, iv. 5.  856
  Heaven and yourself / Had part in this fair maid (Juliet); now heaven hath all.    Romeo and Juliet, iv. 5.  857
  Nature’s tears are Reason’s merriment.    Romeo and Juliet, iv. 5.  858
  When griping grief the heart doth wound, / And doleful dumps the mind oppress, / Then music, with her silver sound, / With speedy help doth lend redress.    Romeo and Juliet, iv. 5.  859
  A beggarly account of empty boxes.    Romeo and Juliet, v. 1.  860
  Come, cordial, not poison.    Romeo and Juliet, v. 1.  861
  The world is not thy friend, nor the world’s law.    Romeo and Juliet, v. 1.  862
  Heaven finds means to kill your joys with love.    Romeo and Juliet, v. 3.  863
  See what a scourge is laid upon your hate, / That Heaven finds means to kill your joys with love.    Romeo and Juliet, v. 3.  864
  ’Tis not enough to keep the feeble up, / But to support them after.    Timon of Athens, i. 1.  865
  Ceremony was but devised at first / To set a gloss on faint deeds … / But where there is true friendship, there needs none.    Timon of Athens, i. 2.  866
  Friendship’s full of dregs.    Timon of Athens, i. 2.  867
  Great men should drink with harness on their throats.    Timon of Athens, i. 2.  868
  O that men’s ears should be / To counsel deaf, but not to flattery!    Timon of Athens, i. 2.  869
  What need we have any friends, if we should never have need of them?    Timon of Athens, i. 2.  870
  Feast-won, fast-lost.    Timon of Athens, ii. 2.  871
  Every man has his fault, and honesty is his.    Timon of Athens, iii. 1.  872
  Policy sits above conscience.    Timon of Athens, iii. 2.  873
  The devil knew not what he did when he made man politic; be crossed himself by it.    Timon of Athens, iii. 3.  874
  For pity is the virtue of the law, / And none but tyrants use it cruelly.    Timon of Athens, iii. 5.  875
  He’s most truly valiant / That can wisely suffer the worst that man / Can breathe; and make his wrongs his outsides: / To wear them like his raiment, carelessly, / And ne’er prefer his injuries to his heart, / To bring it into danger.    Timon of Athens, iii. 5.  876
  Nothing emboldens sin so much as mercy.    Timon of Athens, iii. 5.  877
  Pity is the virtue of the law, / And none but tyrants use it cruelly.    Timon of Athens, iii. 5.  878
  The law is past depth to those that, without heed, do plunge into it.    Timon of Athens, iii. 5.  879
  To revenge is no valour, but to bear.    Timon of Athens, iii. 5.  880
  Many arrive at second masters / Upon their first lord’s neck.    Timon of Athens, iv. 3.  881
  Put armour on thine ears and on thine eyes.    Timon of Athens, iv. 3.  882
  There is no time so miserable, but a man may be true.    Timon of Athens, iv. 3.  883
  What man didst thou ever know unthrift, that was beloved after his means?    Timon of Athens, iv. 3.  884
  A great observer, and he looks / Quite through the deeds of men.    Julius Cæsar, i. 2.  885
  Brutus will start a spirit as soon as Cæsar.    Julius Cæsar, i. 2.  886
  He doth bestride the narrow world / Like a Colossus; and we petty men / Walk under his huge legs, and peep about / To find ourselves dishonourable graves.    Julius Cæsar, i. 2.  887
  He reads much: / He is a great observer, and he looks / Quite through the deeds of men: he loves no plays, / As thou dost, Anthony; he hears no music: / Seldom he smiles; and smiles in such a sort / As if he mock’d himself, and scorn’d his spirit / That could be moved to smile at anything. / Such men as he be never at heart’s ease / Whiles they behold a greater than themselves; / And therefore are they very dangerous.    Julius Cæsar, i. 2.  888
  He thinks too much; such men are dangerous.    Julius Cæsar, i. 2.  889
  I had as lief not be, as live to be / In awe of such a thing as I myself.    Julius Cæsar, i. 2.  890
  I love / The name of honour more than I fear death.    Julius Cæsar, i. 2.  891
  If it be aught toward the general good, / Set honour in one eye, and death i’ the other, / And I will look on both indifferently; / For, let the gods so speed me, as I love / The name of honour more than I fear death.    Julius Cæsar, i. 2.  892
  It is meet / That noble minds keep ever with their likes; / For who so firm that cannot be seduced?    Julius Cæsar, i. 2.  893
  Let me have men about me that are fat; / Sleek-headed men, and such as sleep o’ nights; / Yond’ Cassius has a lean and hungry look; / He thinks too much; such men are dangerous.    Julius Cæsar, i. 2.  894
  Men at some time are masters of their fate.    Julius Cæsar, i. 2.  895
  Rome (room) indeed, and room enough, / When there is in it but one only man.    Julius Cæsar, i. 2.  896
  Seldom he smiles, and smiles in such a sort, / As if he mock’d himself, and scorn’d his spirit, / That could be moved to smile at anything.    Julius Cæsar, i. 2.  897
  The eye sees not itself, / But by reflection, by some other things.    Julius Cæsar, i. 2.  898
  Who so firm that cannot be seduced?    Julius Cæsar, i. 2.  899
  Why, man, he doth bestride the narrow world / Like a Colossus, and we petty men / Walk under his huge legs and peep about / To find ourselves dishonourable graves.    Julius Cæsar, i. 2.  900
  Ye gods, it doth amaze me / A man of such a feeble temper should / So get the start of the majestic world / And bear the palm alone.    Julius Cæsar, i. 2.  901
  But men may construe things after their fashion, clean from the purpose of the things themselves.    Julius Cæsar, i. 3.  902
  Those that with haste will make a mighty fire, / Begin with weak straws.    Julius Cæsar, i. 3.  903
  As dear to me as are the ruddy drops / That visit my sad heart.    Julius Cæsar, ii. 1.  904
  Between the acting of a dreadful thing / And the first motion, all the interim is / Like a phantasma or a hideous dream.    Julius Cæsar, ii. 1.  905
  Brutus, thou sleep’st; awake, and see thyself.    Julius Cæsar, ii. 1.  906
  It is the bright day that brings forth the adder, / And that craves wary walking.    Julius Cæsar, ii. 1.  907
  Lowliness is young ambition’s ladder, / Whereto the climber-upward turns his face; / But when he once attains the upmost round, / He then unto the ladder turns his back, / Looks in the clouds, scorning the base degrees / By which he did ascend.    Julius Cæsar, ii. 1.  908
  You are my true and honourable wife, / As dear to me as are the ruddy drops / That visit my sad heart.    Julius Cæsar, ii. 1.  909
  Cowards die many times before their deaths; / The valiant never taste of death but once. / Of all the wonders that I yet have heard, / It seems to me most strange that men should fear; / Seeing that death, a necessary end, / Will come when it will come.    Julius Cæsar, ii. 2.  910
  Fierce fiery warriors fought upon the clouds, / In ranks and squadrons, and right form of war, / Which drizzled blood upon the Capitol.    Julius Cæsar, ii. 2.  911
  Have I in conquest stretched mine arm so far / To be afeard to tell gray-beards the truth?    Julius Cæsar, ii. 2.  912
  Most strange that men should fear, / Seeing that death, a necessary end, / Will come when it will come.    Julius Cæsar, ii. 2.  913
  The things that threatened me, / Ne’er look’d but on my back; when they shall see / The face of Cæsar, they are vanished.    Julius Cæsar, ii. 2.  914
  When beggars die, there are no comets seen; / The heavens themselves blaze forth the death of princes.    Julius Cæsar, ii. 2.  915
  Last, not least.    Julius Cæsar, iii. 1. King Lear, i. 1.  916
  But I am constant as the northern star, / Of whose true-fixed and resting quality, / There is no fellow in the firmament.    Julius Cæsar, iii. 1.  917
  Cry “Havock,” and let slip the dogs of war.    Julius Cæsar, iii. 1.  918
  How many ages hence / Shall this our lofty scene be acted over / In states unborn and accents yet unknown!    Julius Cæsar, iii. 1.  919
  I am constant as the northern star, / Of whose true-fix’d and resting quality / There is no fellow in the firmament.    Julius Cæsar, iii. 1.  920
  O mighty Cæsar! dost thou lie so low? / Are all thy conquests, glories, triumphs, spoils, / Shrunk to this little measure?    Julius Cæsar, iii. 1.  921
  That we shall die, we know; ’tis but the time / And drawing days out, that men stand upon.    Julius Cæsar, iii. 1.  922
  Thou art the ruin of the noblest man / That ever lived in the tide of times.    Julius Cæsar, iii. 1.  923
  Though last, not least.    Julius Cæsar, iii. 1.  924
  The evil that men do lives after them; / The good is oft interréd with their bones.    Julius Cæsar, viii. 2.  925
  But were I Brutus, / And Brutus Antony, there were an Antony / Would ruffle up your spirits, and put a tongue / In every wound of Cæsar, that should move / The stones of Rome to rise and mutiny.    Julius Cæsar, iii. 2.  926
  But yesterday the word of Cæsar might / Have stood against the world; now lies he there, / And none so poor to do him reverence.    Julius Cæsar, iii. 2.  927
  For Brutus is an honourable man, / So are they all, all honourable men.    Julius Cæsar, iii. 2.  928
  Fortune is merry, and in this mood will give us anything.    Julius Cæsar, iii. 2.  929
  He was my friend, faithful and just to me.    Julius Cæsar, iii. 2.  930
  Here was a Cæsar! when comes such another?    Julius Cæsar, iii. 2.  931
  I am no orator, as Brutus is; / But, as you know me all, a plain blunt man, / That loves my friend.    Julius Cæsar, iii. 2.  932
  If you have tears, prepare to shed them now.    Julius Cæsar, iii. 2.  933
  Mischief, thou art afoot; / Take thou what course thou wilt.    Julius Cæsar, iii. 2.  934
  Not that I loved Cæsar less, but that I loved Rome more.    Julius Cæsar, iii. 2.  935
  O judgment, thou art fled to brutish beasts, / And men have lost their reason!    Julius Cæsar, iii. 2.  936
  Oh, what a fall was there, my countrymen! / Then I, and you, and all of us fell down, / Whilst bloody treason flourished over us.    Julius Cæsar, iii. 2.  937
  Put a tongue / In every wound of Cæsar that should move / The stones of Rome to rise and mutiny.    Julius Cæsar, iii. 2.  938
  This was the most unkindest cut of all.    Julius Cæsar, iii. 2.  939
  When that the poor have cried. Cæsar hath wept; / Ambition should be made of sterner stuff.    Julius Cæsar, iii. 2.  940
  There are no tricks in plain and simple faith.    Julius Cæsar, iv. 2.  941
  When love begins to sicken and decay / It useth an enforced ceremony.    Julius Cæsar, iv. 2.  942
  Contaminate our fingers with base bribes?… I’d rather be a dog; and bay the moon than such a Roman.    Julius Cæsar, iv. 3.  943
  Good reasons must of force give place to better.    Julius Cæsar, iv. 3.  944
  I had rather be a dog, and bay the moon, / Than such a Roman.    Julius Cæsar, iv. 3.  945
  Nature must obey necessity.    Julius Cæsar, iv. 3.  946
  That carries anger as the flint bears fire; / Who, much enforcèd, shows a hasty spark, / And straight is cold again.    Julius Cæsar, iv. 3.  947
  There is a tide in the affairs of men, / Which, taken at the flood, leads on to fortune; / Omitted, all the voyage of their life / Is bound in shallows and in miseries; / On such a full sea are we now afloat; / And we must take the current when it serves, / Or lose our ventures.    Julius Cæsar, iv. 3.  948
  There is no terror, Cassius, in your threats; / For I am armed so strong in honesty / That they pass by me as the idle wind / Which I respect not.    Julius Cæsar, iv. 3.  949
  We must take the current when it serves, / Or lose our ventures.    Julius Cæsar, iv. 3.  950
  For I am full of spirit, and resolved / To meet all perils very constantly.    Julius Cæsar, v. 1.  951
  His life was gentle, and the elements / So mix’d in him, that Nature might stand up, / And say to all the world: This was a man!    Julius Cæsar, v. 5.  952
  This was a man.    Julius Cæsar, v. 5.  953
  When shall we three meet again, in thunder, lightning, or in rain?    Macbeth, i. 1.  954
  The multiplying villanies of nature / Do swarm upon him.    Macbeth, i. 2.  955
  ’Tis strange; / And oftentimes to win us to our harm, / The instruments of darkness tell us truths; / Win us with honest trifles, to betray ’s, / In deepest consequence.    Macbeth, i. 3.  956
  Come what come may, / Time and the hour runs through the roughest day.    Macbeth, i. 3.  957
  Nothing is but what is not.    Macbeth, i. 3.  958
  Oftentimes, to win us to our harm, / The instruments of darkness tell us truths; / Win us with honest trifles, to betray us / In deepest consequence.    Macbeth, i. 3.  959
  Present fears / Are less than horrible imaginings.    Macbeth, i. 3.  960
  The earth hath bubbles, as the water has, / And these are of them.    Macbeth, i. 3.  961
  Nothing in his life / Became him like the leaving it; he died / As one that had been studied in his death / To throw away the dearest thing he owed, / As ’twere a careless trifle.    Macbeth, i. 4.  962
  There’s no art / To find the mind’s construction in the face.    Macbeth, i. 4.  963
  I fear thy nature; / It is too full of the milk of human kindness / To catch the nearest way.    Macbeth, i. 5.  964
  Make thick my blood, / Stop up the access and passage to remorse, / That no compunctious visitings of Nature / Shake my fell purpose.    Macbeth, i. 5.  965
  O never / Shall sun that morrow see.    Macbeth, i. 5.  966
  Thy nature / It is too full of the milk of human kindness / To catch the nearest way.    Macbeth, i. 5.  967
  To beguile the time, / Look like the time; bear welcome in your eye, / Your hand, your tongue; look like the innocent flower; / But be the serpent under ’t.    Macbeth, i. 5.  968
  Yet do I fear thy nature; / It is too full o’ the milk o’ human kindness.    Macbeth, i. 5.  969
  Coigne of vantage.    Macbeth, i. 6.  970
  Bring forth men-children only! / For thy undaunted mettle should compose. / Nothing but males.    Macbeth, i. 7.  971
  False face must hide what the false heart doth know.    Macbeth, i. 7.  972
  I dare do all that may become a man; / Who dares do more, is none.    Macbeth, i. 7.  973
  I have bought / Golden opinions from all sorts of people.    Macbeth, i. 7.  974
  I have no spur / To prick the sides of my intent.    Macbeth, i. 7.  975
  If it were done when ’tis done, then ’twere well / It were done quickly … that but this blow / Might be the be all and the end all here.    Macbeth, i. 7.  976
  Memory, the warder of the brain.    Macbeth, i. 7.  977
  Screw your courage to the sticking-place, / And we’ll not fail.    Macbeth, i. 7.  978
  That but this blow / Might be the be-all and the end-all here, / But here, upon this bank and shoal of time, / We’d jump the life to come.    Macbeth, i. 7.  979
  There’s husbandry in heaven; / Their candles are all out.    Macbeth, i. 7.  980
  This even-handed justice / Commends the ingredients of our poison’d chalice / To our own lips.    Macbeth, i. 7.  981
  Vaulting ambition, which o’erleaps itself, / And falls on the other.    Macbeth, i. 7.  982
  We fail? / But screw your courage to the sticking-place, / And we’ll not fail.    Macbeth, i. 7.  983
  We’d jump the life to come. But, in these cases, / we still have judgment here; that we but teach / Bloody instructions, which, being taught, return / To plague the inventor. This even-handed justice / Commends the ingredients of our poison’d chalice / To our own lips.    Macbeth, i. 7.  984
  Confusion now hath made his masterpiece. / Most sacrilegious murder hath broke ope / The Lord’s anointed temple, and stole thence / The life o’ the building.    Macbeth, ii. 1.  985
  Hear it not, Duncan; for it is a knell / That summons thee to heaven or to hell.    Macbeth, ii. 1.  986
  Is this a dagger which I see before me, / The handle toward my hand? Come, let me clutch thee.    Macbeth, ii. 1.  987
  Words to the heat of deeds too cold breath give.    Macbeth, ii. 1.  988
  I am afraid to think what I have done; / Look on’t again I dare not.    Macbeth, ii. 2.  989
  Macbeth does murder sleep, the innocent sleep; / Sleep, that knits up the ravell’d sleeve of care, / The death of each day’s life, sore labour’s bath, / Balm of hurt minds, great Nature’s second course, / Chief nourisher in life’s feast.    Macbeth, ii. 2.  990
  Methought I heard a voice cry, Sleep no more!    Macbeth, ii. 2.  991
  Sleep no more, / Macbeth does murder sleep.    Macbeth, ii. 2.  992
  Sleep, that knits up the ravell’d sleave of care, / The death of each day’s life, sore labour’s bath, / Balm of hurt minds, great nature’s second course, / Chief nourisher in life’s feast.    Macbeth, ii. 2.  993
  The attempt, and not the deed, / Confounds us.    Macbeth, ii. 2.  994
  The sleeping and the dead / Are but as pictures.    Macbeth, ii. 2.  995
  To know my deed, ’twere best not know myself.    Macbeth, ii. 2.  996
  Will all great Neptune’s ocean wash this blood / Clean from my hand? No, this my hand will rather / The multitudinous seas incarnadine, / Making the green one red.    Macbeth, ii. 2.  997
  All is but toys.    Macbeth, ii. 3.  998
  In the great hand of God I stand.    Macbeth, ii. 3.  999
  Shake off this downy sleep, death’s counterfeit, / And look on death itself.    Macbeth, ii. 3.  1000
  The labour we delight in physics pain.    Macbeth, ii. 3.  1001
  “We are men, my liege.”— / Ay, in the catalogue ye go for men.    Macbeth, iii. 1.  1002
  In the catalogue ye go for men.    Macbeth, iii. 1.  1003
  To be thus is nothing; / But to be safely thus.    Macbeth, iii. 1.  1004
  After life’s fitful fever he sleeps well.    Macbeth, iii. 2.  1005
  Downy sleep, death’s counterfeit.    Macbeth, iii. 2.  1006
  Things bad begun make strong themselves by ill.    Macbeth, iii. 2.  1007
  Things without remedy should be without regard; what is done, is done.    Macbeth, iii. 2.  1008
  Treason has done his worst; nor steel, nor poison, / Malice domestic, foreign levy, nothing / Can touch him further.    Macbeth, iii. 2.  1009
  We have scotch’d the snake, but not killed it.    Macbeth, iii. 2.  1010
  You have scotched the snake, not killed him.    Macbeth, iii. 2.  1011
  Cabin’d, cribb’d, confin’d.    Macbeth, iii. 4.  1012
  Can such things be, / And overcome us like a summer’s cloud, / Without our special wonder?    Macbeth, iii. 4.  1013
  Good digestion wait on appetite, / And health on both.    Macbeth, iii. 4.  1014
  It will have blood; they say, blood will have blood; / Stones have been known to move, and trees to speak.    Macbeth, iii. 4.  1015
  No speculation in those eyes / Which thou dost glare with!    Macbeth, iii. 4.  1016
  Now, good digestion wait on appetite, / And health on both.    Macbeth, iii. 4.  1017
  Stand not upon the order of your going, / But go at once.    Macbeth, iii. 4.  1018
  The time has been / That when the brains were out the man should die, / And there an end.    Macbeth, iii. 4.  1019
  What man dare, I dare.    Macbeth, iii. 4.  1020
  Security, / Is mortals’ chiefest enemy.    Macbeth, iii. 5.  1021
  Double, double, toil and trouble, / Fire burn, and caldron bubble.    Macbeth, iv. 1.  1022
  I’ll make assurance doubly sure, / And take a bond of fate.    Macbeth, iv. 1.  1023
  The flighty purpose never is o’ertook, / Unless the deed go with it.    Macbeth, iv. 1.  1024
  When our actions do not, / Our fears do make us traitors.    Macbeth, iv. 1.  1025
  The night is long that never finds the day.    Macbeth, iv. 2.  1026
  The poor wren, / The most diminutive of birds, will fight, / Her young ones in her nest, against the owl.    Macbeth, iv. 2.  1027
  Things at the worst will cease, or else climb upward / To what they were before.    Macbeth, iv. 2.  1028
  Angels are bright still, though the brightest fell.    Macbeth, iv. 3.  1029
  Give sorrow words; the grief that does not speak, / Whispers the o’erfraught heart, and bids it break.    Macbeth, iv. 3.  1030
  Receive what cheer you may; / The night is long that never finds the day.    Macbeth, iv. 3.  1031
  The grief that does not speak / Whispers the o’er-fraught heart, and bids it break.    Macbeth, iv. 3.  1032
  All the perfumes of Arabia will not sweeten this little hand.    Macbeth, v. 1.  1033
  Unnatural deeds / Do breed unnatural troubles: infected minds / To their deaf pillows will discharge their secrets.    Macbeth, v. 1.  1034
  What’s done cannot be undone.    Macbeth, v. 1.  1035
  Canst thou not minister to a mind diseas’d, / Pluck from the memory a rooted sorrow, / Raze out the written troubles of the brain? / And with some sweet oblivious antidote, / Cleanse the stuff’d bosom of that perilous stuff / Which weighs upon the heart?    Macbeth, v. 3.  1036
  Curses, not loud, but deep, mouth-honour, breath, / Which the poor heart would fain deny, but dare not.    Macbeth, v. 3.  1037
  I would applaud thee to the very echo, that should applaud again.    Macbeth, v. 3.  1038
  My way of life / Is fall’n into the sere, the yellow leaf; / And that which should accompany old age, / As honour, love, obedience, troops of friends, / I must not look to have; but in their stead, / Curses, not loud, but deep, mouth-honour, breath / Which the poor heart would fain deny, but dare not.    Macbeth, v. 3.  1039
  Throw physic to the dogs; I’ll none of it.    Macbeth, v. 3.  1040
  Blow, wind! come, wrack! / At least we’ll die with harness on our back.    Macbeth, v. 5.  1041
  Full of sound and fury, / Signifying nothing.    Macbeth, v. 5.  1042
  Life’s but a walking shadow; a poor player, / That struts and frets his hour upon the stage, / And then is heard no more! It is a tale / Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, / Signifying nothing.    Macbeth, v. 5.  1043
  To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow, / Creeps in this petty pace from day to day, / To the last syllable of recorded time; / And all our yesterdays have lighted fools / To dusty death.    Macbeth, v. 5.  1044
  I have no words, / My voice is in my sword.    Macbeth, v. 7.  1045
  Look, the morn, in russet mantle clad, / Walks o’er the dew of yon high eastern hill.    Hamlet, i. 1.  1046
  The chariest maid is prodigal enough / If she unmask her beauty to the moon.    Hamlet, i. 1.  1047
  The cock, that is the trumpet of the morn, / Doth with his lofty and shrill-sounding throat / Awake the god of day.    Hamlet, i. 1.  1048
  This bodes some strange eruption to our state.    Hamlet, i. 1.  1049
  A beast that wants discourse of reason.    Hamlet, i. 2.  1050
  A countenance more in sorrow than in anger.    Hamlet, i. 2.  1051
  A little more than kin, and less than kind.    Hamlet, i. 2.  1052
  All that lives must die, / Passing through nature to eternity.    Hamlet, i. 2.  1053
  Foul deeds will rise, / Though all the earth o’erwhelm them, to men’s eyes.    Hamlet, i. 2.  1054
  Frailty, thy name is woman.    Hamlet, i. 2.  1055
  He was a man, take him for all in all, / I shall not look upon his like again.    Hamlet, i. 2.  1056
  How weary, stale, flat, and unprofitable / Seem to me all the uses of this world.    Hamlet, i. 2.  1057
  Hyperion to a satyr; so loving to my mother, / That he might not beteem the winds of heaven / Visit her face too roughly.    Hamlet, i. 2.  1058
  I have that within which passeth show; / These but the trappings and the suits of woe.    Hamlet, i. 2.  1059
  Like Niobe, all tears.    Hamlet, i. 2.  1060
  Oh, that this too too solid flesh would melt, / Thaw and resolve itself into a dew! / Or that the Everlasting had not fix’d / His canon ’gainst self-slaughter.    Hamlet, i. 2.  1061
  Seems, madam! nay, it is; I know not “seems.” / ’Tis not alone my inky cloak, good mother, / Nor customary suits of solemn black, / Nor windy suspiration of forced breath, / No, nor the fruitful river in the eye, / Nor the dejected ’haviour of the visage, / Together with all forms, modes, shows of grief, / That can denote truly; these, indeed, seem, / For they are actions that a man can play: / But I have that within, which passeth show; / These but the trappings and the suits of woe.    Hamlet, i. 2.  1062
  To persevér / In obstinate condolement, is a course / Of impious stubbornness; ’tis unmanly grief: / It shows a will most incorrect to heaven.    Hamlet, i. 2.  1063
  Beware / Of entrance to a quarrel; but, being in, / Bear ’t that the opposed may beware of thee.    Hamlet, i. 3.  1064
  Costly thy habit as thy purse can buy, / But not expressed in fancy; rich, not gaudy; / For the apparel oft proclaims the man.    Hamlet, i. 3.  1065
  Do not, as some ungracious pastors do, / Show me the steep and thorny way to heaven, / Whilst, like a puffed and reckless libertine, / Himself the primrose path of dalliance treads, / And recks not his own rede.    Hamlet, i. 3.  1066
  For loan oft loses both itself and friend.    Hamlet, i. 3.  1067
  Give every man thine ear, but few thy voice; / Take each man’s censure, but reserve thy judgment.    Hamlet, i. 3.  1068
  Give thy thoughts no tongue, / Nor any unproportioned thought his act. / Be thou familiar, but by no means vulgar. / The friends thou hast, and their adoption tried, / Grapple them to thy soul with hoops of steel; / But do not dull thy palm with entertainment / Of each new-hatch’d unfledged comrade.    Hamlet, i. 3.  1069
  I do know, / When the blood burns, how prodigal the soul / Lends the tongue vows.    Hamlet, i. 3.  1070
  Keep you in the rear of your affection, / Out of the shot and danger of desire.    Hamlet, i. 3.  1071
  Loan oft loses both itself and friend.    Hamlet, i. 3.  1072
  Nature, crescent, does not grow alone / In thews and bulk; but, as this temple waxes, / The inward service of the mind and soul / Grows wide withal.    Hamlet, i. 3.  1073
  Neither a borrower nor a lender be; / For loan oft loses both itself and friend.    Hamlet, i. 3.  1074
  Rich, not gaudy.    Hamlet, i. 3.  1075
  Take each man’s censure, but reserve thy judgment.    Hamlet, i. 3.  1076
  The apparel oft proclaims the man.    Hamlet, i. 3.  1077
  The canker galls the infants of the spring / Too oft before their buttons are disclosed, / And in the morn and liquid dew of youth / Contagious blastments are most imminent.    Hamlet, i. 3.  1078
  The friends thou hast, and their adoption tried, / Grapple them to thy soul with hoops of steel.    Hamlet, i. 3.  1079
  This above all; to thine own self be true, / And it must follow as the night the day, / Thou canst not then be false to any man.    Hamlet, i. 3.  1080
  Those friends thou hast, and their adoption tried, / Grapple them to thy soul with hoops of steel.    Hamlet, i. 3.  1081
  When the blood burns, how prodigal the soul / Lends the tongue vows.    Hamlet, i. 3.  1082
  Youth to itself rebels, though none else near.    Hamlet, i. 3.  1083
  A custom / More honoured in the breach than the observance.    Hamlet, i. 4.  1084
  I could a tale unfold, whose lightest word / Would harrow up thy soul, freeze thy young blood, / Make thy two eyes, like stars, start from their spheres, / Thy knotted and combined locks to part, / And each particular hair to stand on end, / Like quills upon the fretful porcupine.    Hamlet, i. 4.  1085
  It is a custom / More honoured in the breach than the observance.    Hamlet, i. 4.  1086
  My fate cries out, / And makes each petty artery in this body / As hardy as the Nemean lion’s nerve.    Hamlet, i. 4.  1087
  Something is rotten in the state of Denmark.    Hamlet, i. 4.  1088
  Why, what should be the fear? / I do not set my life at a pin’s fee; / And for my soul, what can it do to that, / Being a thing immortal as itself?    Hamlet, i. 4.  1089
  A man may smile, and smile, and be a villain.    Hamlet, i. 5.  1090
  Cut off even in the blossoms of my sin, / Unhousel’d, disappointed, unanel’d; / No reckoning made, but sent to my account / With all my imperfections on my head.    Hamlet, i. 5.  1091
  Every man hath business and desire, / Such as it is.    Hamlet, i. 5.  1092
  Leave her to heaven, / And to those thorns that in her bosom lodge, / To prick and sting her.    Hamlet, i. 5.  1093
  No reckoning made, but sent to my account / With all my imperfections on my head.    Hamlet, i. 5.  1094
  O my prophetic soul! mine uncle.    Hamlet, i. 5.  1095
  One may smile, and smile, and be a villain.    Hamlet, i. 5.  1096
  The time is out of joint; O cursèd spite, / That ever I was born to set it right.    Hamlet, i. 5.  1097
  There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, / Than are dreamt of in your philosophy.    Hamlet, i. 5.  1098
  There needs no ghost, my lord, come from the grave / To tell us this.    Hamlet, i. 5.  1099
  Breathe his faults so quaintly, / That they may seem the taints of liberty; / The flash and outbreak of a fiery mind.    Hamlet, ii. 1.  1100
  Ay, sir, to be honest as this world goes, is to be one man picked out of two thousand.    Hamlet, ii. 2.  1101
  Beggar that I am, I am even poor in thanks.    Hamlet, ii. 2.  1102
  Caviare to the general.    Hamlet, ii. 2.  1103
  Doubt thou the stars are fire; / Doubt that the sun doth move; / Doubt truth to be a liar; / But never doubt I love.    Hamlet, ii. 2.  1104
  Dreams, indeed, are ambition; for the substance of the ambitious is merely the shadow of a dream.    Hamlet, ii. 2.  1105
  For murder, though it hath no tongue, will speak / With most miraculous organ.    Hamlet, ii. 2.  1106
  Happy in that we are not over-happy; / On Fortune’s cap we are not the very button.    Hamlet, ii. 2.  1107
  I hold ambition of so airy and light a quality, that it is but a shadow’s shadow.    Hamlet, ii. 2.  1108
  It offends me to the soul to hear a robustious periwig-pated fellow tear a passion to tatters, to very rags, to split the ears of the groundlings, who for the most part are capable of nothing but inexplicable dumb show and noise.    Hamlet, ii. 2.  1109
  Look to the players;… / They are the abstract and brief chroniclers of the times.    Hamlet, ii. 2.  1110
  Man delights not me; no, nor woman neither.    Hamlet, ii. 2.  1111
  More matter with less art.    Hamlet, ii. 2.  1112
  Murder, though it have no tongue, will speak / With most miraculous organ.    Hamlet, ii. 2.  1113
  Nothing is good or bad, but thinking makes it so.    Hamlet, ii. 2.  1114
  That he is mad ’tis true; ’tis true, ’tis pity; / And pity ’tis ’tis true.    Hamlet, ii. 2.  1115
  The devil hath power / To assume a pleasing shape.    Hamlet, ii. 2.  1116
  There is nothing either good or bad, but thinking makes it so.    Hamlet, ii. 2.  1117
  Though this be madness, yet there is method in’t.    Hamlet, ii. 2.  1118
  To be honest, as this world goes, is to be one man picked out of ten thousand.    Hamlet, ii. 2.  1119
  Use every man after his desert, and who should ’scape whipping? Use them after your own honour and dignity; the less they deserve, the more merit is in your bounty.    Hamlet, ii. 2.  1120
  What a piece of work is a man! How noble in reason! How infinite in faculty! In form and moving how express and admirable! In action how like an angel! In apprehension how like a God!    Hamlet, ii. 2.  1121
  What’s Hecuba to him or he to Hecuba, / That he should weep for her?    Hamlet, ii. 2.  1122
  ’Tis a consummation / Devoutly to be wished.    Hamlet, iii. 1.  1123
  ’Tis too much proved that, with devotion’s visage / And pious action, we do sugar o’er / The devil himself.    Hamlet, iii. 1.  1124
  Be thou as chaste as ice, as pure as snow, thou shalt not escape calumny.    Hamlet, iii. 1.  1125
  Conscience does make cowards of us all; / And thus the native hue of resolution / Is sicklied o’er with the pale cast of thought; / And enterprises of great pith and moment, / With this regard, their currents turn awry, / And lose the name of action.    Hamlet, iii. 1.  1126
  Get thee to a nunnery!    Hamlet, iii. 1.  1127
  God hath given you one face, and you make yourselves another: you jig, you amble, and you lisp, and you nickname God’s creatures, and make your wantonness your ignorance.    Hamlet, iii. 1.  1128
  Madness in great ones must not unwatch’d go.    Hamlet, iii. 1.  1129
  Nymph, in thy orisons / Be all my sins remembered.    Hamlet, iii. 1.  1130
  O what a noble mind is here o’erthrown! / The courtier’s, soldier’s, scholar’s eye, tongue, sword; / The expectancy and rose of the fair state, / The glass of fashion, and the mould of form, / The observed of all observers, quite, quite down!    Hamlet, iii. 1.  1131
  Rather bear those ills we have / Than fly to others that we know not of.    Hamlet, iii. 1.  1132
  Rich gifts wax poor when givers prove unkind.    Hamlet, iii. 1.  1133
  The dread of something after death, / The undiscovered country, from whose bourn / No traveller returns, puzzles the will; / And makes us rather bear those ills we have / Than fly to others that we know not of.    Hamlet, iii. 1.  1134
  The glass of fashion and the mould of form, / The observed of all observers.    Hamlet, iii. 1.  1135
  The insolence of office.    Hamlet, iii. 1.  1136
  The undiscovered country, from whose bourn / No traveller returns.    Hamlet, iii. 1.  1137
  There are more offences at my beck than I have thoughts to put them in, imagination to give them shape, or time to act them in.    Hamlet, iii. 1.  1138
  Thus the native hue of resolution / Is sicklied o’er with the pale cast of thought.    Hamlet, iii. 1.  1139
  To be, or not to be, that is the question; / Whether ’tis nobler in the mind to suffer / The stings and arrows of outrageous fortune, / Or to take up arms against a sea of troubles, / And, by opposing, end them.    Hamlet, iii. 1.  1140
  To die, to sleep; / No more; and by a sleep to say we end / The heartache and the thousand natural shocks / That flesh is heir to, ’tis a consummation / Devoutly to be wished.    Hamlet, iii. 1.  1141
  To die, to sleep; / No more! perchance to dream; ay, there’s the rub; / For in that sleep of death what dreams may come, / When we have shuffled off this mortal coil, / Must give us pause.    Hamlet, iii. 1.  1142
  To the noble mind / Rich gifts wax poor when givers prove unkind.    Hamlet, iii. 1.  1143
  Who would bear the whips and scorns of time, / The oppressor’s wrong, the proud man’s contumely, / The pangs of despised love, the law’s delay, / The insolence of office and the spurns / That patient merit of the unworthy takes, / When he himself might his quietus make / With a bare bodkin?    Hamlet, iii. 1.  1144
  Who would fardels bear, / To grunt and sweat under a weary life, / But that the dread of something after death, / The undiscover’d country from whose bourn / No traveller returns, puzzles the will, / And makes us rather bear those ills we have / Than fly to others that we know not of?    Hamlet, iii. 1.  1145
  With devotion’s visage / And pious action we do sugar over / The devil himself.    Hamlet, iii. 1.  1146
  ’Tis now the very witching time of night, / When churchyards yawn, and hell itself breathes out / Contagion to this world.    Hamlet, iii. 2.  1147
  Brevity is the soul of wit.    Hamlet, iii. 2.  1148
  By-and-by is easily said.    Hamlet, iii. 2.  1149
  Call me what instrument you will, though you fret me, you cannot play on me.    Hamlet, iii. 2.  1150
  Give me that man / Who is not passion’s slave, and I will wear him / In my heart’s core, ay, in my heart of hearts.    Hamlet, iii. 2.  1151
  Hitherto doth love on fortune tend; / For who not needs, shall never lack a friend; / And who in want a hollow friend doth try, / Directly seasons him his enemy.    Hamlet, iii. 2.  1152
  I have thought some of Nature’s journeymen had made men, and not made them well; they imitated humanity so abominably.    Hamlet, iii. 2.  1153
  I will speak daggers to her, but use none.    Hamlet, iii. 2.  1154
  Let me be cruel, not unnatural; / I will speak daggers to her, but use none. / My tongue and soul in this be hypocrites.    Hamlet, iii. 2.  1155
  Let the galled jade wince, our withers are unwrung.    Hamlet, iii. 2.  1156
  Now see that noble and most sovereign reason, / Like sweet bells jangled, out of tune, and harsh, / That unmatch’d form and feature of blown youth / Blasted with ecstacy: O, woe is me, / To have seen what I have seen, see what I see.    Hamlet, iii. 2.  1157
  Our wills and fates do so contrary run, / That our devices still are overthrown; / Our thoughts are ours, their ends none of our own.    Hamlet, iii. 2.  1158
  Suit the action to the word, the word to the action; with this special observance, that you o’erstep not the modesty of nature.    Hamlet, iii. 2.  1159
  They are not a pipe for fortune’s finger, / To sound what stop she please.    Hamlet, iii. 2.  1160
  They fool me to the top of my bent.    Hamlet, iii. 2.  1161
  Though you can fret me, you cannot play upon me.    Hamlet, iii. 2.  1162
  To hold, as ’twere, the mirror up to nature.    Hamlet, iii. 2.  1163
  Try what repentance can; what can it not? Yet what can it, when one cannot repent?    Hamlet, iii. 2.  1164
  Very like a whale.    Hamlet, iii. 2.  1165
  What we do determine oft we break, / Purpose is but the slave to memory.    Hamlet, iii. 2.  1166
  Who in want a hollow friend doth try, / Directly seasons him his enemy.    Hamlet, iii. 2.  1167
  Why should the poor be flatter’d? / No, let the candied tongue lick absurd pomp, / And crook the pregnant hinges of the knee, / Where thrift may follow fawning.    Hamlet, iii. 2.  1168
  Woman’s fear and love hold quantity; / In neither aught, or in extremity.    Hamlet, iii. 2.  1169
  ’Tis not so above: / There is no shuffling; there the action lies / In its true nature.    Hamlet, iii. 3.  1170
  My offence is rank; it smells to heaven.    Hamlet, iii. 3.  1171
  My words fly up, my thoughts remain below; / Words, without thoughts, never to heaven go.    Hamlet, iii. 3.  1172
  Whereto serves mercy, / But to confront the visage of offence? / And what’s in prayer, but this twofold force, / To be forestalled ere we come to fall, / Or pardon’d, being down? Then I’ll look up.    Hamlet, iii. 3.  1173
  Words without thoughts never to heaven go.    Hamlet, iii. 3.  1174
  A combination and a form, indeed / Where every god did seem to set his seal / To give the world assurance of a man.    Hamlet, iii. 4.  1175
  A king of shreds and patches.    Hamlet, iii. 4.  1176
  An eye like Mars, to threaten or command.    Hamlet, iii. 4.  1177
  Assume a virtue, if you have it not.    Hamlet, iii. 4.  1178
  Be thou assured, if words be made of breath, / And breath of life, I have no life to breathe / What thou hast said to me.    Hamlet, iii. 4.  1179
  Conceit in weakest bodies strongest works.    Hamlet, iii. 4.  1180
  Confess yourself to Heaven; / Repent what’s past; avoid what is to come; / And do not spread the compost on the weeds, / To make them ranker.    Hamlet, iii. 4.  1181
  False as dicers’ oaths.    Hamlet, iii. 4.  1182
  For love of grace, / Lay not the flattering unction to your soul / That not your trespass but my madness speaks.    Hamlet, iii. 4.  1183
  For use almost can change the stamp of Nature, / And either curb the devil or throw him out / With wondrous potency.    Hamlet, iii. 4.  1184
  I must be cruel, only to be kind.    Hamlet, iii. 4.  1185
  Lay not that flattering unction to your soul.    Hamlet, iii. 4.  1186
  My pulse, as yours, doth temperately keep time, / And makes as healthful music.    Hamlet, iii. 4.  1187
  Save me, and hover o’er me with your wings, / You heavenly guards.    Hamlet, iii. 4.  1188
  This is the very coinage of your brain; / This bodiless creation ecstasy / Is very cunning in.    Hamlet, iii. 4.  1189
  Upon the heat and flame of thy distemper / Sprinkle cool patience.    Hamlet, iii. 4.  1190
  Use almost can change the stamp of nature, / And either curb the devil, or throw him out.    Hamlet, iii. 4.  1191
  A knavish speech sleeps in a foolish ear.    Hamlet, iv. 2.  1192
  Diseases, desperate grown, / By desperate appliance are relieved, / Or not at all.    Hamlet, iv. 3.  1193
  Greatly to find quarrel in a straw, / When honour’s at the stake.    Hamlet, iv. 4.  1194
  Rightly to be great / Is not to stir without great argument, / But greatly to find quarrel in a straw / When honour’s at the stake.    Hamlet, iv. 4.  1195
  Sure, he that made us with such large discourse, / Looking before and after, gave us not / That capability and godlike reason / To fust in us unused.    Hamlet, iv. 4.  1196
  What is a man, / If his chief good and market of his time, / Be but to sleep, and feed? A beast, no more.    Hamlet, iv. 4.  1197
  What is man, / If his chief good, and market of his time, / Be but to sleep and feed? A beast, no man.    Hamlet, iv. 4.  1198
  For my means, I’ll husband them so well, / They shall go far with little.    Hamlet, iv. 5.  1199
  Lord, we know what we are, but know not what we may be.    Hamlet, iv. 5.  1200
  There’s such divinity doth hedge a king, / That treason can but peep to what it would.    Hamlet, iv. 5.  1201
  This nothing’s more than matter.    Hamlet, iv. 5.  1202
  We know what we are, but we know not what we may be.    Hamlet, iv. 5.  1203
  When sorrows come, they come not single spies, / But in battalions.    Hamlet, iv. 5.  1204
  For youth no less becomes / The light and careless livery that it wears, / Than settled age his sables and his weeds, / Importing health and graveness.    Hamlet, iv. 7.  1205
  One woe doth tread upon another’s heel, / So fast they follow.    Hamlet, iv. 7.  1206
  That we would do, / We should do when we would; for this “would” changes, / And hath abatements and delays as many / As there are tongues, are hands, are accidents; / And then this “should” is like a spendthrift’s sigh, / That hurts by easing.    Hamlet, iv. 7.  1207
  You must not think / That we are made of stuff so flat and dull, / That we can let our beard be shook with danger, / And think it pastime.    Hamlet, iv. 7.  1208
  Youth no less becomes / The light and careless livery that it wears, / Than settled age his sables and his weeds, / Importing health and graveness.    Hamlet, iv. 7.  1209
  To what base uses we may return, Horatio!    Hamlet, v, 1.  1210
  Imperious Cæsar, dead and turn’d to clay, / Might stop a hole to keep the wind away.    Hamlet, v. 1.  1211
  Let Hercules himself do what he may, / The cat will mew, and dog will have his day.    Hamlet, v. 1.  1212
  The hand of little employment hath the daintier sense.    Hamlet, v. 1.  1213
  There is a special providence in the fall of a sparrow.    Hamlet, v. 1.  1214
  The readiness is all.    Hamlet, v. 2.  1215
  The rest is silence.    Hamlet, v. 2.  1216
  There’s a divinity that shapes our ends, / Rough-hew them as we will.    Hamlet, v. 2.  1217
  There’s a special providence in the fall of a sparrow.    Hamlet, v. 2.  1218
  This fell sergeant, death, / Is strict in his arrest.    Hamlet, v. 2.  1219
  Cudgel thy brains no more about it, for your dull ass will not mend his pace with beating.    Hamlet, v. i.  1220
  Although the last, not least.    King Lear, i. 1.  1221
  I want that glib and oily art, / To speak and purpose not; since what I well intend, / I’ll do ’t before I speak.    King Lear, i. 1.  1222
  Love’s not love / When it is mingled with regards that stand / Aloof from the entire point.    King Lear, i. 1.  1223
  Nor are those empty-hearted whose low sound / Reverbs no hollowness.    King Lear, i. 1.  1224
  Those are not empty-hearted whose low sound / Reverbs no hollowness.    King Lear, i. 1.  1225
  Time shall unfold what plaited cunning hides: / Who cover faults, at last shame them derides.    King Lear, i. 1.  1226
  Thou, Nature, art my goddess; to thy law / My services are bound.    King Lear, i. 2.  1227
  Have more than thou showest; / Speak less than thou knowest; / Lend less than thou owest; / Learn more than thou trowest; / Set less than thou throwest.    King Lear, i. 4.  1228
  How sharper than a serpent’s tooth it is / To have a thankless child!    King Lear, i. 4.  1229
  Ingratitude! thou marble-hearted fiend, / More hideous, when thou show’st thee in a child, / Than the sea-monster.    King Lear, i. 4.  1230
  Let me still take away the harms I fear, / Not fear still to be taken.    King Lear, i. 4.  1231
  Truth’s a dog that must to kennel; he must be whipped out when the Lady the brach may stand by the fire and stink.    King Lear, i. 4.  1232
  Well, you may fear too far.— / Safer than trust too far.    King Lear, i. 4.  1233
  Woe, that too late repents.    King Lear, i. 4.  1234
  Down, thou climbing sorrow; / Thy element’s below.    King Lear, ii. 4.  1235
  Fathers that wear rags / Do make their children blind; / But fathers that wear bags / Do make their children kind.    King Lear, ii. 4.  1236
  Let go thy hold when a great wheel runs down a hill, lest it break thy neck with following it; but the great one that goes up the hill, let him draw thee after.    King Lear, ii. 4.  1237
  Nature in you stands on the very verge / Of her confine.    King Lear, ii. 4.  1238
  To wilful men / The injuries that they themselves procure / Must be their schoolmasters.    King Lear, ii. 4.  1239
  A man / More sinn’d against than sinning.    King Lear, iii. 2.  1240
  For the rain it raineth every day.    King Lear, iii. 2.  1241
  I am a man / More sinned against than sinning.    King Lear, iii. 2.  1242
  More sinn’d against than sinning.    King Lear, iii. 2.  1243
  Poor naked wretches, wheresoe’er you are, / That bide the pelting of this pitiless storm, / How shall your houseless heads and unfed sides, / Your looped and windowed raggedness, defend you / From seasons such as these? O I have ta’en / Too little care of this!    King Lear, iii. 2.  1244
  Strike flat the thick rotundity o’ the world! / Crack Nature’s moulds, all germens spill at once, / That make ungrateful man!    King Lear, iii. 2.  1245
  Learned Theban.    King Lear, iii. 4.  1246
  Loop’d and window’d raggedness.    King Lear, iii. 4.  1247
  O that way madness lies.    King Lear, iii. 4.  1248
  Obey thy parents; keep thy word justly; swear not; set not thy sweet heart on proud array.    King Lear, iii. 4.  1249
  Take physic, pomp; / Expose thyself to feel what wretches feel; / That thou mayst shake the superflux to them, / And show the heavens more just.    King Lear, iii. 4.  1250
  When the mind’s free, the body’s delicate.    King Lear, iii. 4.  1251
  Where the greater malady is fix’d, / The lesser is scarce felt.    King Lear, iii. 4.  1252
  We our betters see bearing our woes, / We scarcely think our miseries our foes.    King Lear, iii. 6.  1253
  When we our betters see bearing our woes, / We scarcely think our miseries our foes.    King Lear, iii. 6.  1254
  Who is’t can say, I’m at the worst? / I’m worse than ere I was, / And worse I may be yet; the worst is not, / So long as we can say, / This is the worst.    King Lear, iv. 1.  1255
  Yet better thus, and known to be contemn’d, / Than still contemn’d and flatter’d.    King Lear, iv. 1.  1256
  Ay, every inch a king.    King Lear, iv. 6.  1257
  Every inch a king.    King Lear, iv. 6.  1258
  Fool of fortune.    King Lear, iv. 6.  1259
  Nature’s above art.    King Lear, iv. 6.  1260
  O ruin’d piece of nature! This great world / Shall so wear out to nought.    King Lear, iv. 6.  1261
  Plate sin with gold, / And the strong lance of justice hurtless breaks; / Arm it in rags, a pigmy’s straw does pierce it.    King Lear, iv. 6.  1262
  They told me I was everything; ’tis a lie: I am not ague-proof.    King Lear, iv. 6.  1263
  Through tatter’d clothes small vices do appear; / Robes and furr’d gowns hide all.    King Lear, iv. 6.  1264
  Men must endure / Their going hence, even as their coming hither: / Ripeness is all.    King Lear, v. 2.  1265
  Her voice was ever soft, / Gentle, and low—an excellent thing in woman.    King Lear, v. 3.  1266
  Jesters do oft prove prophets.    King Lear, v. 3.  1267
  Men are as the time is.    King Lear, v. 3.  1268
  The gods are just, and of our pleasant vices / Make instruments to scourge us.    King Lear, v. 3.  1269
  We cannot all be masters, nor all masters / Cannot be truly follow’d.    King Lear, v. 3.  1270
  ’Tis the curse of service; preferment goes by letter and affection, not by the old gradation where each second stood heir to the first.    Othello, i. 1.  1271
  But I will wear my heart upon my sleeve / For daws to peck at.    Othello, i. 1.  1272
  I will wear my heart upon my sleeve / For daws to peck at.    Othello, i. 1.  1273
  ’Twas strange, ’twas passing strange, / ’Twas pitiful; ’twas wondrous pitiful.    Othello, i. 3.  1274
  I will a round unvarnish’d tale deliver / Of my whole course of love.    Othello, i. 3.  1275
  Little of this great world can I speak, / More than pertains to feats of broil and battle; / And, therefore, little shall I grace my cause / In speaking for myself. Yet by your gracious patience, / I will a round unvarnish’d tale deliver / Of my whole course of love.    Othello, i. 3.  1276
  Moving accidents by flood and field.    Othello, i. 3.  1277
  Put money in thy purse.    Othello, i. 3.  1278
  Rude am I in my speech, / And little blessed with the soft phrase of peace.    Othello, i. 3.  1279
  She loved me for the dangers I had passed, / And I loved her that she did pity them. / This only is the witchcraft I have used.    Othello, i. 3.  1280
  The robb’d that smiles, steals something from the thief.    Othello, i. 3.  1281
  The very head and front of my offending / Hath this extent, no more.    Othello, i. 3.  1282
  To mourn a mischief that is past and gone, / Is the next way to draw new mischief on.    Othello, i. 3.  1283
  When remedies are past, the griefs are ended / By seeing the worst, which late on hopes depended.    Othello, i. 3.  1284
  Base men, being in love, have then a nobility in their natures more than is native to them.    Othello, ii. 1.  1285
  For I am nothing if not critical.    Othello, ii. 1.  1286
  I am nothing if not critical.    Othello, ii. 1.  1287
  Knavery’s plain face is never seen till used.    Othello, ii. 1.  1288
  O most lame and impotent conclusion!    Othello, ii. 1.  1289
  Dull not device by coldness and delay.    Othello, ii. 3.  1290
  Every inordinate cup is unbless’d, and the ingredient is a devil.    Othello, ii. 3.  1291
  Good wine is a good familiar creature, if it be well used.    Othello, ii. 3.  1292
  Heaven’s above all; and there be souls that must be saved, and there be souls that must not be saved.    Othello, ii. 3.  1293
  How poor are they that have not patience! / What wound did ever heal but by degrees?    Othello, ii. 3.  1294
  Let’s teach ourselves that honourable stop, not to out-sport discretion.    Othello, ii. 3.  1295
  Men are men; the best sometimes forget.    Othello, ii. 3.  1296
  Pleasure and action make the hours seem short.    Othello, ii. 3.  1297
  Reputation is an idle and false imposition, oft got without merit, and lost without deserving; you have lost no reputation at all unless you repute yourself such a loser.    Othello, ii. 3.  1298
  Reputation, reputation, reputation! O I have lost my reputation. I have lost the immortal part of myself, and what remains is bestial.    Othello, ii. 3.  1299
  Good name in man and woman, dear my lord, / Is the immediate jewel of their souls; / Who steals my purse, steals trash; ’tis something, nothing; / ’Twas mine, ’tis his, and has been slave to thousands; / But he that filches from me my good name, / Robs me of that which not enriches him, / And makes me poor indeed.    Othello, iii. 2.  1300
  Jealousy: / It is the green-eyed monster that doth mock / The meat it feeds on.    Othello, iii. 2.  1301
  Beware, my lord, of jealousy; / It is the green-eyed monster that doth mock / The meat it feeds on.    Othello, iii. 3.  1302
  But O what damned minutes tells he o’er, / Who dotes, yet doubts; suspects, yet strongly loves?    Othello, iii. 3.  1303
  Excellent wretch! Perdition catch my soul, / But I do love thee! and when I love thee not, / Chaos is come again.    Othello, iii. 3.  1304
  Farewell the tranquil mind! farewell content! / Farewell the plumed troop and the big wars / That make ambition virtue! oh, farewell! / Farewell the neighing steed and the shrill trump, / The spirit-stirring drum, the ear-piercing fife, / The royal banner, and all quality, / Pride, pomp, and circumstance of glorious war!    Othello, iii. 3.  1305
  He that fliches from me my good name / Robs me of that which not enriches him, / And makes me poor indeed.    Othello, iii. 3.  1306
  He that is robb’d, not wanting what is stolen, / Let him not know ’t, and he’s not robb’d at all.    Othello, iii. 3.  1307
  Men should be what they seem; / Or those that be not, would they might seem none.    Othello, iii. 3.  1308
  Oh, what damned minutes tells he o’er, / Who dotes, yet doubts; suspects, yet soundly loves.    Othello, iii. 3.  1309
  Othello’s occupation’s gone!    Othello, iii. 3.  1310
  Poor and content is rich and rich enough; / But riches fineless is as poor as winter / To him that ever fears he shall be poor.    Othello, iii. 3.  1311
  Riches fineless is as poor as winter / To him that ever fears he shall be poor.    Othello, iii. 3.  1312
  Take note, take note, O world, / To be direct and honest is not safe.    Othello, iii. 3.  1313
  To be once in doubt is once to be resolved.    Othello, iii. 3.  1314
  Trifles light as air / Are to the jealous confirmations strong / As proofs of holy writ.    Othello, iii. 3.  1315
  Who steals my purse steals trash; ’tis something, nothing; / ’Twas mine, ’tis his, and has been slave to thousands; / But he that filches from me my good name, / Robs me of that which not enriches him, / And makes me poor indeed.    Othello, iii. 3.  1316
  For let our finger ache, and it endues / Our other healthful members ev’n to that sense / Of pain.    Othello, iii. 4.  1317
  Let our finger ache, and it endues / Our other healthful members ev’n to that sense / Of pain.    Othello, iii. 4.  1318
  Men’s natures wrangle with inferior things, / Though great ones are their object.    Othello, iii. 4.  1319
  They laugh that win.    Othello, iv. 2.  1320
  Guiltiness will speak, though tongues were out of use.    Othello, v. 1.  1321
  Being done, / There is no pause.    Othello, v. 2.  1322
  Have you prayed to-night, Desdemona?    Othello, v. 2.  1323
  Nothing extenuate, / Nor set down aught in malice; then must you speak / Of one, that loved not wisely, but too well; / … of one, whose hand, / Like the base Indian, threw a pearl away / Richer than all his tribe.    Othello, v. 2.  1324
  Speak of me as I am; nothing extenuate, / Nor set down aught in malice. Then must you speak / Of one who loved not wisely but too well.    Othello, v. 2.  1325
  That death’s unnatural that kills for loving.    Othello, v. 2.  1326
  Why should honour outlive honesty?    Othello, v. 2.  1327
  There’s beggary in the love that can be reckoned.    Ant. and Cleop., i. 1.  1328
  In time we hate that which we often fear.    Ant. and Cleop., i. 3.  1329
  The ebb’d man, ne’er loved till ne’er worth love, / Comes dear’d by being lack’d.    Ant. and Cleop., i. 4.  1330
  We, ignorant of ourselves, / Beg often our own harms, which the wise powers / Deny us for our good; so find we profit / By losing of our prayers.    Ant. and Cleop., ii. 1.  1331
  Her own person, / It beggar’d all description.    Ant. and Cleop., ii. 2.  1332
  Give to a gracious message / An host of tongues; but let ill tidings tell / Themselves when they be felt.    Ant. and Cleop., ii. 5.  1333
  I do not like “but yet,” it does allay / The good precedence; fie upon “but yet:” / “But yet” is as a jailer to bring forth / Some monstrous malefactor.    Ant. and Cleop., ii. 5.  1334
  If I lose mine honour, I lose myself.    Ant. and Cleop., iii. 4.  1335
  Celerity is never more admired / Than by the negligent.    Ant. and Cleop., iii. 7.  1336
  He that can endure / To follow with allegiance a fall’n lord, / Does conquer him that did his master conquer, / And earns a place i’ the story.    Ant. and Cleop., iii. 11.  1337
  Wisdom and Fortune combating together, / If that the former dare but what he can, / No chance may shake it.    Ant. and Cleop., iii. 11.  1338
  Never anger / Made good guard for itself.    Ant. and Cleop., iv. 1.  1339
  To business that we love we rise betime, / And go to ’t with delight.    Ant. and Cleop., iv. 4.  1340
  For his bounty, / There was no winter in’t; an autumn ’twas, / That grew the more by reaping.    Ant. and Cleop., v. 2.  1341
  Doubting things go ill often hurts more / Than to be sure they do.    Cymbeline, i. 7.  1342
  The crickets sing, and man’s o’er-laboured sense / Repairs itself by rest.    Cymbeline, ii. 2.  1343
  Weariness / Can snore upon the flint, when resty sloth / Finds the down pillow hard.    Cymbeline, ii. 6.  1344
  Then was I as a tree / Whose boughs did bend with fruit; but, in one night, / A storm, or robbery, call it what you will, / Shook down my mellow hangings, nay, my leaves, / And left me bare to weather.    Cymbeline, iii. 3.  1345
  Men’s vows are women’s traitors.    Cymbeline, iii. 4.  1346
  Slander, / Whose edge is sharper than the sword, whose tongue / Out-venoms all the worms of Nile, whose breath / Rides on the parting winds, and doth belie / All corners of the world.    Cymbeline, iii. 4.  1347
  Hardness ever of hardiness is mother.    Cymbeline, iii. 6.  1348
  Plenty, and peace, breeds cowards; hardness ever of hardiness is mother.    Cymbeline, iii. 6.  1349
  To lapse in fulness / Is sorer than to lie for need; and falsehood / Is worse in kings than beggars.    Cymbeline, iii. 6.  1350
  Clay and clay differs in dignity, / Whose dust is both alike.    Cymbeline, iv. 2.  1351
  Cowards father cowards, and base things sire base; / Nature hath meal and bran; contempt and grace.    Cymbeline, iv. 2.  1352
  Golden lads and girls all must, / As chimney-sweepers, come to dust.    Cymbeline, iv. 2.  1353
  Great griefs medicine the less.    Cymbeline, iv. 2.  1354
  Love’s reasons without reason.    Cymbeline, iv. 2.  1355
  Society is no comfort to one not sociable.    Cymbeline, iv. 2.  1356
  The breach of custom / Is breach of all.    Cymbeline, iv. 2.  1357
  Triumphs for nothing and lamenting toys, / Is jollity for apes and grief for boys.    Cymbeline, iv. 2.  1358
  Fortune brings in some boats that are ill-steered.    Cymbeline, iv. 3.  1359
  You must either be directed by some that take upon them to know, or take upon yourself that which I am sure you do not know, or jump the after-inquiry on your own peril.    Cymbeline, v. 4.  1360
  Few love to hear the sins they love to act.    Pericles, i. 1.  1361
  Flattery is the bellows blows up sin; / The thing the which is flattered, but a spark, / To which that blast gives heat and stronger glowing; / Whereas reproof, obedient and in order, / Fits kings, as they are men, for they may err.    Pericles, i. 2.  1362
  It is time to fear when tyrants seem to kiss.    Pericles, i. 2.  1363
  Fishes live in the sea,… as men do on land—the great ones eat up the little ones.    Pericles, ii. 1.  1364
  The rough seas that spare not any man.    Pericles, ii. 1.  1365
  Time’s the king of men; / He’s both their parent and he is their grave, / And gives them what he will, not what they crave.    Pericles, ii. 3.  1366
  No visor does become black villany / So well as soft and tender flattery.    Pericles, iv. 4.  1367
  Music of the spheres.    Pericles, v. 1.  1368
  Unstained thoughts do seldom dream on evil; / Birds never limed no secret bushes fear.    Shakespeare, The Rape of Lucrece.  1369
  Who buys a minute’s mirth to wail a week? / Or sells eternity to get a toy?    Shakespeare, The Rape of Lucrece.  1370
  Youth is full of sport, age’s breath is short; / Youth is nimble, age is lame; / Youth is hot and bold, age is weak and cold; / Youth is wild, and age is tame.    Shakespeare, The Passionate Pilgrim.  1371
  Not marble, nor the gilded monuments of princes, shall outlive this powerful rhyme.    Shakespeare, Sonnet LV.  1372
  A smile re-cures the wounding of a frown.    Shakespeare.  1373
  All orators are dumb when beauty pleadeth.    Shakespeare.  1374
  Beauty blemished once, for ever’s lost.    Shakespeare.  1375
  Beauty is but a vain and doubtful good.    Shakespeare.  1376
  Crabbed age and youth / Cannot live together.    Shakespeare.  1377
  Dismiss your vows, your feigned tears, your flattery; / For where a heart is hard, they make no battery.    Shakespeare.  1378
  Each present joy or sorrow seems the chief.    Shakespeare.  1379
  Even so my sun one early morn did shine, / With all triumphant splendour on my brow; / But out alack! it was but one hour mine.    Shakespeare.  1380
  For greatest scandal waits on greatest state.    Shakespeare.  1381
  For he being dead, with him is beauty slain, / And, beauty dead, black chaos comes again.    Shakespeare.  1382
  Foul cankering rust the hidden treasure frets; / But gold that’s put to use, more gold begets.    Shakespeare.  1383
  Gnats are unnoticed whereso’er they fly, / But eagles gazed upon by every eye.    Shakespeare.  1384
  Gold that is put to use more gold begets.    Shakespeare.  1385
  Gold, worse poison to men’s souls, / Doing more murder in this loathsome world, / Than these poor compounds that thou may’st not sell.    Shakespeare.  1386
  Greatest scandal waits on greatest state.    Shakespeare.  1387
  Grief best is pleased with grief’s society.    Shakespeare.  1388
  Have you not heard it said full oft, / A woman’s nay doth stand for nought?    Shakespeare.  1389
  He is but the counterfeit of a man who hath not the life of a man.    Shakespeare.  1390
  It is one thing to be tempted, another thing to fall.    Shakespeare.  1391
  Lawless are they that make their wills their law.    Shakespeare.  1392
  Loathsome canker lives in sweetest bud.    Shakespeare.  1393
  Looks kill love, and love by looks reviveth.    Shakespeare.  1394
  Love is a spirit all compact of fire; / Not gross to sink, but light and will aspire.    Shakespeare.  1395
  Love is not love / Which alters when it alteration finds.    Shakespeare.  1396
  Misery is trodden down by many, / And, being low, never relieved by any.    Shakespeare.  1397
  Neither rhyme nor reason.    Shakespeare.  1398
  Oppose not rage while rage is in its force, but give it way awhile and let it waste.    Shakespeare.  1399
  Pain pays the income of each precious thing.    Shakespeare.  1400
  Roses have thorns, and silver fountains mud; / Clouds and eclipses stain both moon and sun.    Shakespeare.  1401
  Sad souls are slain in merry company. / Grief best is pleased with grief’s society; / True sorrow then is feelingly sufficed / When with like semblance it is sympathised.    Shakespeare.  1402
  Slander’s mark was ever yet the fair; / … A crow that flies in heaven’s sweetest air.    Shakespeare.  1403
  So thou be good, slander doth but approve / Thy worth the greater.    Shakespeare.  1404
  Soft pity enters at an iron gate.    Shakespeare.  1405
  Some falls are means the happier to rise.    Shakespeare.  1406
  Sorrow, like a heavy-hanging bell, once set on ringing, with his own strength goes; then little strength rings out the doleful knell.    Shakespeare.  1407
  The argument all bare is of more worth / Than when it hath my added praise beside.    Shakespeare.  1408
  The painful warrior famousèd for fight, / After a thousand victories, once foil’d, / Is from the books of honour razèd quite, / And all the rest forgot for which he toil’d.    Shakespeare.  1409
  The strongest castle, tower, and town, / The golden bullet beats it down.    Shakespeare.  1410
  Thoughts are but dreams till their effects be tried.    Shakespeare.  1411
  What a hell of witchcraft lies in the small orb of one particular tear!    Shakespeare.  1412
  Where love reigns, disturbing jealousy doth call himself affection’s sentinel.    Shakespeare.  1413
  Who soars too near the sun with golden wings melts them.    Shakespeare.  1414
  Why so large cost, having so short a lease, / Dost thou upon thy fading mansion spend?    Shakespeare.  1415
  Will is deaf, and hears no heedful friends.    Shakespeare.  1416
 
 
CONTENTS · BIBLIOGRAPHIC RECORD
  PREVIOUSNEXT  
 
Loading
Click here to shop the Bartleby Bookstore.

Shakespeare · Bible · Strunk · Anatomy · Nonfiction · Quotations · Reference · Fiction · Poetry
© 1993–2014 Bartleby.com · [Top 150] · Subjects · Titles · Authors