Quotes About Shakespeare

Return of love, more blest may be the view; As call it winter, which being full of care, Makes summer's welcome thrice more wish'd, more rare. Sonet56

Caesar, Now be still, I killed not thee with half so good a will?

O, were mine eyeballs into bullets turn'd, That I in rage might shoot them at your faces!

Look how the floor of heaven is thick inlaid with patines of bright gold!

L'amor d'homes dolents es converteix en por; la por en odi, i l'odi fa que l'un, o bé tots dos, esdevinguin perill d'una mort merescuda.

out vile jelly! where is thy lustre now

Weaving spiders, come not here, Hence, you long legged spinners, hence! Beetles black, approach not here, worm nor snail, do no offense.

I'll so offend, to make offence a skill, Redeeming time when men think least I will.

The will is infinite and the execution confin'd, the desire is boundless and the act a slave to limit.

El infierno está vacío, y todos los diablos están aquí.

At its most basic level, behind the grand poetry and superb characterizations, Shakespeare shows Macbeth succumbing to the temptation of pride, the same sin as Adam. Both wanted to live without God, to lead their own lives, follow their own paths, and ignore any limits on their freedom imposed by God's strictures.

Macbeth is a play that points to the advent, much like the turbulent last century of the Middle Ages, of a modern age gradually deracinated from its Christian grounding and increasingly enamored of a neopagan notion of virtu, of potentially infinite human achievement severed from metaphysical considerations.

the hate I bear thee can afford no better term then this: thou art a villian.

Those that Hobgoblin call you and sweet Puck, You do their work, and they shall have good luck: Are not you he?' 'Thou speak'st aright; I am that merry wanderer of the night.

And strange it is That nature must compel us to lament Our most persisted deeds.

Where is your husband? LADY MACDUFF: I hope, in no place so unsanctified Where such as thou mayst find him.

Heigh-ho! sing, heigh-ho! unto the green holly: Most friendship is feigning, most loving mere folly: Then, heigh-ho, the holly! This life is most jolly.

Villain I am none. Therefore farewell. I see thou knowest me not.

Such a mad marriage never was before.

Why, foolish Lucius, dost thou not perceive / That Rome is but a wilderness of tigers?

The wine-cup is the little silver well, Where truth, if truth there be Doth dwell.

I am not gamesome: I do lack some part of that quick spirit that is in Antony.

What need the bridge much broader than the flood? The fairest grant is the necessity.

A sentence is but a cheveril glove to a good wit. How quickly the wrong side may be turned outward!