Quotes About Illusion

she did lie In her pavillion--cloth-of-gold of tissue-- O'er-picturing that Venus where we see The fancy out-work nature

Stealing and giving odor. Enough, no more. 'Tis not so sweet now as it was before.

life is like theater

More flow'rs I noted, yet I none could see But sweet or color it had stol'n from thee.

A dream itself is but a shadow.

Light, seeking light, doth light of light beguile; So ere you find where light in darkness lies, Your light grows dark by losing of your eyes.

The best in this kind are but shadows, and the worst are no worse if imagination amend them.

I sworn thee fair, and thought thee bright Who art cold as Hel, as dark as night

You see we do, yet see you but our hands And this the bleeding business they have done: Our hearts you see not; they are pitiful

La vida no es más que una sombra en marcha; un mal actor que se pavonea y se agita una hora en el escenario y después no vuelve a ser oído: es un cuento narrado por un idiota, lleno de ruido y de furia, que nada significa

O thou weed, Who art so lovely fair, and smell'st so sweet

The sleeping and the dead are but as pictures. Lady Macbeth

Great Timon, noble, worthy, royal Timon! Ah, when the means are gone that buy this praise, The breath is gone whereof this praise is made: Feast-won, fast-lost; one cloud of winter showers, These flies are couch'd.

When I burned in desire to question them further, they made themselves air, into which they vanished. Whiles

Young men's love, then, lies      Not truly in their hearts, but in their eyes.

What are these, So withered, and so wild in their attire, That look not like th'inhabitants o'th' earth And yet are on't? - Live you, or are you aught That man may question? You seem to understand me, By each at once her choppy finger laying Upon her skinny lips. You should be women, And yet your beards forbid me to interpret That you are so.

But when in other habits you are seen –   Orsino's mistress, and his fancy's queen!

a raven's heart within a dove.

My Oberon! what visions have I seen! Methought I was enamour'd of an ass.

Sometime we see a cloud that's dragonish, A vapor sometime like a bear or lion, A towered citadel, a pendant rock, A forked mountain, or blue promontory With trees upon't that nod unto the world And mock our eyes with air. Thou hast seen these signs: They are black vesper's pageants.

In all my life only that dream is real.

for beauty is a witch, Against whose charms faith melteth into blood.

How far is't call'd to Forres? What are these So wither'd and so wild in their attire, that look not like the inhabitants o' the earth, And yet are on't? Live you? or are you aught That man may question? The earth hath bubbles, as the water has, And these are of them. Whither are they vanish'd? Into the air; and what seem'd corporal melted As breath into the wind. Would they had stay'd!

Come, shadow, come, and take this shadow up, For 'tis thy rival.