Quotes from William Shakespeare

I hate the murderer, love him murdered.

Ay, but hearken, sir; though the chameleon Love can feed on the air, I am one that am nourished by my victuals, and would fain have meat.

When you depart from me sorrow abides and happiness takes his leave.

DEMETRIUS Relent, sweet Hermia: and, Lysander, yield Thy crazed title to my certain right. LYSANDER You have her father's love, Demetrius; Let me have Hermia's: do you marry him.

This night I hold an old accustomed feast, Whereto I have invited many a guest, Such as I love; and you among the store, One more, most welcome, makes my number more.

Love reasons without reason.

Love all. Trust a few. Do wrong to none. This above all: to thine own self be true. No legacy is so rich as honesty. Brevity is the soul of wit

a young woman in love always looks like patience on a monument smiling at grief

My love to thee is sound, sans crack or flaw.

On a day - alack the day! - Love, whose month is ever May, Spied a blossom passing fair Playing in the wanton air

I thank you all and here dismiss you all, and to the love and favor of my country commit myself, my person, and the cause.

Thou ever young, fresh, lov'd, and delicate wooer, whose blush doth thaw the consecrated snow

I have lov'd her ever since I saw her; and still I see her beautiful

Under the colour of commending him I have access my own love to prefer; But Silvia is too fair, too true, too holy, To be corrupted with my worthless gifts.

Gloucester, we have done deeds of charity, made peace of enmity, fair love of hate, between these swelling wrong-incensed peers.

O powerful love, that in some respects makes a beast a man, in some other, a man a beast.

If people knew how much I hated them, they'd love me for holding it in.

Man and wife, being two, are one in love.

Were beauty under twenty locks kept fast, yet love breaks through and picks them all at last.

Thou hast her, France; let her be thine, for we Have no such daughter, nor shall ever see That face of hers again. Therefore be gone Without our grace, our love, our benison.

Yet writers say, as in the sweetest bud The eating canter dwells, so eating love Inhabits in the finest wits of all.

Love, therefore, and tongue-tied simplicity In least speak most, to my capacity.

There is none of my uncle's marks upon you; he taught me how to know a man in love; in which cage of rushes I am sure you are not prisoner.

So they loved as love in twain Had the essence but in one; Two distinct, divisions none.