Quotes About Tragedy

So sweet was ne'er so fatal. I must weep. But they are creul tears. This sorrow's heavenly; it strikes where it doth love.

William Shakespeare

All the perfumes of Arabia will not sweeten this little hand.

Where is Polonius? - In heaven; send hither to see: if your messenger find him not there, seek him i' the other place yourself.

Give me my Romeo. And when I shall die, Take him and cut him out in little stars, And he will make the face of heaven so fine That all the world will be in love with night And pay no worship to the garish sun.

Death lies on her like an untimely frost Upon the sweetest flower of all the field.

William Shakespeare

This day's black fate on more days doth depend; This but begins the woe, others must end.

I hate the murderer, love him murdered.

Ring the alarum-bell! Blow, wind! come, wrack! At least we'll die with harness on our back.

From forth the fatal loins of these two foes A pair of star-crossed lovers take their life, Whose misadventured piteous overthrows Doth with their death bury their parents' strife. . . . O, I am fortune's fool! . . . Then I defy you, stars.

I'll find a day to massacre them all And raze their faction and their family, The cruel father and his traitorous sons, To whom I sued for my dear son's life, And make them know what 'tis to let a queen Kneel in the streets and beg for grace in vain.

O happy dagger! This is thy sheath; there rust, and let me die.

Is there no pity sitting in the clouds That sees into the bottom of my grief? O sweet my mother, cast me not away! Delay this marriage for a month, a week, Or if you do not, make the bridal bed In that dim monument where Tybalt lies.

Ere yet the salt of most unrighteous tears Had left the flushing of her gallèd eyes, She married. O, most wicked speed, to post With such dexterity to incestuous sheets!

Alas, that they are so! To die even when they to perfection grow!

William Shakespeare

How stand I, then, That have a father killed, a mother stained, Excitements of my reason and my blood, And let all sleep, while to my shame I see The imminent death of twenty thousand men That for a fantasy and trick of fame Go to their graves like beds, fight for a plot Whereon the numbers cannot try the cause, Which is not tomb enough and continent To hide the slain? O, from this time forth My thoughts be bloody or be nothing worth! He exits.

Now is a time to storm; why art thou still? TITUS ANDRONICUS: Ha, ha, ha! MARCUS ANDRONICUS: Why dost thou laugh? it fits not with this hour. TITUS ANDRONICUS: Why, I have not another tear to shed:

Pero, alto. ¿Qué luz alumbra esa ventana? Es el oriente, y Julieta, el sol. Sal, bello sol, y mata a la luna envidiosa, que está enferma y pálida de pena porque tú, que la sirves, eres más hermoso.

Ven, noche gentil, noche tierna y sombría, dame a mi Romeo y, cuando yo muera, córtalo en mil estrellas menudas: lucirá tan hermoso el firmamento que el mundo, enamorado de la noche, dejará de adorar al sol hiriente.

What sadness lengthens Romeo's hours?

A pair of star-cross'd lovers take their life; Whole misadventured piteous overthrows Do with their death bury their parents' strife.

Perdonados serán unos, castigados otros; pues jamás hubo tan lamentable historia como la de Julieta y su Romeo.