Quotes from William Shakespeare

The brain may devise laws for the blood, but a hot temper leaps o'er a cold decree.

You are yoked with a lamb, That carries anger as the flint bears fire; Who, much enforced, shows a hasty spank, And straight is cold again.

Do not plunge thyself too far in anger.

Scarce can I speak, my choler is so great. Oh! I could hew up rocks, and fight with flint.

The valiant never taste of death but once.

He that wants money, means, and content is without three good friends.

Why, universal plodding poisons up The nimble spirits in the arteries, As motion and long-during action tires The sinewy vigor of the traveller.

O world, world! thus is the poor agent despised. O traitors and bawds, how earnestly are you set a-work, and how ill requited! Why should our endeavor be so loved, and the performance so loathed?

I am indeed, sir, a surgeon to old shoes; when they are in great danger I recover them.

Know more than other. Work more than other. Expect less than other

If we are marked to die, we are enough to do our country loss; and if to live, the fewer men, the greater share of honor.

O, what a goodly outside falsehood hath!

An overflow of good converts to bad.

If there be devils, would I were a devil, To live and burn in everlasting fire, So I might have your company in hell, But to torment you with my bitter tongue!

A turn or two I'll walk To still my beating mind.

In a false quarrel there is no true valor.

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.

"Fair, kind, and true" is all my argument, "Fair, kind, and true" varying to other words; And in this change is my invention spent, Three themes in one, which wondrous scope affords.

Heaven truly knows that thou art false as hell.

Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon, Who is already sick and pale with grief That thou, her maid, art far more fair than she. . . .

Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou Romeo?

Speak, what trade art thou? Why, sir, a carpenter. Where is thy leather apron and thy rule? What does thou with thy best apparel on?

Art made tongue-tied by authority.

Where art thou, Muse, that thou forget'st so long / To speak of that which gives thee all thy might?