Quotes from Shakespeare

Parting is such sweet sorrow that I shall say goodnight till it be morrow.

God hath given you one face, and you make yourself another.

Like madness is the glory of this life.

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. Mark the music.

Sir, in my heart there was a kind of fighting That would not let me sleep.

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.

Something wicked this way comes

He kills her in her own humor.

A most mechanical and dirty hand. I shall have such revenges on you...both. The things I will do, what they are, yet I know not. But they will be the terrors of the earth

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

Oftentimes, to win us to our harm, the instruments of darkness tell us truths.

What wound did ever heal but by degrees?

What's Hecuba to him, or he to Hecuba, That he should weep for her?

O good Horatio, what a wounded name, Things standing thus unknown, shall live behind me! If thou didst ever hold me in thy heart Absent thee from felicity awhile, And in this harsh world draw thy breath in pain, To tell my story. . . O, I die, Horatio;

You have witchcraft in your lips, Kate. There is more eloquence in a sweet touch of them than in the tongues of the whole French council.

When she shall die, take her, and cut her in little stars, and she will make the face of heaven so fine, that the world will be in love with night, and pay no worship to the garish sun

We suffer a lot the few things we lack and we enjoy too little the many things we have.

Thou wouldst as soon go kindle fire with snow as seek to quench the fire of love with words.

Glory is like a circle in the water, which never ceaseth to enlarge itself, till by broad spreading, it disperses to naught.

We were, fair queen, / Two lads that thought there was no more behind / But such a day to-morrow as to-day, / And to be boy eternal.

La vida es una sombra tan sólo, que transcurre; un pobre actor que, orgulloso, consume su turno sobre el escenario para jamás volver a ser oído. Es una historia contada por un necio, llena de ruido y furia, que nada significa.

What are you doing sister? / Killing swine.

She speaks poniards, and every word stabs.

The labor we delight in physics pain.