Quotes About Tragedy

Excellent wretch! Perdition catch my soul But I do love thee! and when I love thee not, Chaos is come again.

I kissed thee ere I killed thee. No way but this, Killing myself, to die upon a kiss.

Woe, destruction, ruin, and decay; the worst is death and death will have his day.

Romeo, Romeo. Wherefore art thou Romeo? Deny thy father and refuse thy name.

O, let me kiss that hand! KING LEAR: Let me wipe it first; it smells of mortality.

Come away, come away, Death, And in sad cypress let me be laid; Fly away, fly away, breath, I am slain by a fair cruel maid. My shroud of white stuck all with yew, O prepare it! My part of death no one so true did share it. Not a flower, not a flower sweet, On my black coffin let there be strewn: Not a friend, not a friend greet My poor corpse, where my bones shall be thrown. A thousand thousand sighs to save, lay me O where Sad true lover never find my grave, to weep there!

A plague on both your houses.

The worst was this: my love was my decay.

Too much of water hast thou poor Ophelia, and therefore I forbid my tears. But yet it is our trick, let shame say what it will. when these are gone the women will be out! Adieu my lord, I have a speech of fire that fane would blaze, But that this folly doubts it.

O, pardon me, thou bleeding piece of earth, / That I am meek and gentle with these butchers!

Her blood is settled, and her joints are stiff; Life and these lips have long been separated: Death lies on her like an untimely frost Upon the sweetest flower of all the field.

O my love, my wife! Death, that hath suck'd the honey of thy breath Hath had no power yet upon thy beauty.

Bloody thou art, bloody will be thy end; Shame serves thy life and doth thy death attend.

whats here a cup closed in my true loves hand poisin i see hath been his timeless end. oh churl drunk all and left no friendly drop to help me after. i will kiss thy lips some poisin doth hang on them, to help me die with a restorative. thy lips are warm. yea noise then ill be brief oh happy dagger this is thy sheath. there rust and let me die.

Still it cried 'Sleep no more!' to all the house: 'Glamis hath murder'd sleep, and therefore Cawdor shall sleep no more,—Macbeth shall sleep no more!

When down her weedy trophies and herself Fell in the weeping brook. Her clothes spread wide; And, mermaid-like, awhile they bore her up: Which time she chanted snatches of old tunes; As one incapable of her own distress, Or like a creature native and indued Unto that element: but long it could not be Till that her garments, heavy with their drink, Pull'd the poor wretch from her melodious lay To muddy death. (Ophelia)

For Brutus, as you know, was Caesar's angel: Judge, O you gods, how dearly Caesar loved him! This was the most unkindest cut of all

Blind is his love and best befits the dark- Benvolio

I am one, sir, that comes to tell you your daughter and the Moor are now making the beast with two backs.

for Mercutio's soul Is but a little way above our heads, Staying for thine to keep him company: Either thou, or I, or both, must go with him.

Of one that lov'd not wisely but too well.

He is dead and gone, lady, He is dead and gone; At his head a grass-green turf, At his heels a stone.

what ho, apothecary!

O true apothecary! Thy drugs are quick. Thus with a kiss I die