William Shakespeare

William
Shakespeare
1564
1616

English Playwright, Poet, Most widely known Writer in English Literature

Author Quotes

Sleep she as sound as careless infancy.

So 'a bade me lay more clothes on his feet. I put my hand into the bed and felt them, and they were as cold as any stone; then I felt to his knees, and so upward and upward, and all was as cold as any stone.

So fair and foul a day I had not seen.

So long? Nay, then, let the devil wear black, for I'll have a suit of sables. Oh heavens! die two months ago, and not forgotten yet? Then there's hope a great man's memory may outlive his life half a year.

So shaken as we are, so wan with care, find we a time for frighted peace to pant and breathe short-winded accents of new broils to be commenced in stronds afar remote.

So they lov'd as love in twain Had the essence but in one; Two distinct, divisions none...

So, if a son that is by his father sent about merchandise do sinfully miscarry upon the sea, the imputation of his wickedness, by your rule, should be imposed upon his father that sent him; or if a servant, under his master's command transporting a sum of money, be assailed by robbers and die in many irreconciled iniquities, you may call the business of the master the author of the servant's damnation. But this is not so. The king is not bound to answer the particular endings of his soldiers, the father of his son, nor the master of his servant; for they purpose not their death when they purpose their services. Besides, there is no king, be his cause never so spotless, if it come to the arbitrement of swords, can try it out with all unspotted soldiers. Some peradventure have on them the guilt of premeditated and contrived murder; some, of beguiling virgins with the broken seals of perjury; some, making the wars their bulwark, that have before gored the gentle bosom of peace with pillage and robbery. Now, if these men have defeated the law and outrun native punishment, though they can outstrip men, they have no wings to fly from God. War is his beadle, war is his vengeance; so that here men are punished for before-breach of the king's laws in now the king's quarrel. Where they feared the death, they have borne life away; and where they would be safe, they perish. Then if they die unprovided, no more is the king guilty of their damnation than he was before guilty of those impieties for the which they are now visited. Every subject's duty is the king's, but every subject's soul is his own. Therefore should every soldier in the wars do as every sick man in his bed -- wash every mote out of his conscience; and dying so, death is to him advantage; or not dying, the time was blessedly lost wherein such preparation was gained; and in him that escapes, it were not sin to think that, making God so free an offer, he let him outlive that day to see his greatness and to teach others how they should prepare.

Some falls the means are happier to rise. Cymbeline (Caius Lucius at IV, ii)

Some true love turned and not a false turned true.

Sorrow breaks seasons and reposing hours, Makes the night morning and the noontide night: Princes have but their titles for their glories, An outward honor for an inward toil; And for unfelt imaginations They often feel a world of restless cares; So that between their titles and low name There's nothing differs but the outward fame. Richard III, Act i, Scene 4

Speak no more: thou turn'st mine eyes into my very soul; and there I see such black and grained spots as will not leave their tinct.

Springs to catch woodcocks. Hamlet Prince of Denmark (Polonius at I, iii)

She will keep no fool, sir, till she be married, and fools are as like husbands as pilchards are to herrings—the husband's the bigger.

Shine out, fair sun, till I have bought a glass, that I may see my shadow as I pass.

Sick now? droop now? This sickness doth infect the very lifeblood of our enterprise.

Since every Jack became a gentleman, there's many a gentle person made a Jack.

Singer: Tell me where is fancy bred, or in the heart, or in the head? How begot, how nourished?

Sir, I am a true laborer: I earn that I eat, get that I wear, owe no man hate, envy no man's happiness, glad of other men's good, content with my harm, and the greatest of my pride is to see my ewes graze and my lambs suck.

Sit and see, minding true things by what their mockeries be.

Sleep that knits up the ravell'd sleave of care, the death of each day's life, sore labour's bath, balm of hurt minds, great nature's second course, chief nourisher in life's feast. Macbeth, Act ii, Scene 2

So all my best is dressing old words new, spending again what is already spent.

So farewell to the little good you bear me. Farewell! A long farewell, to all my greatness! This is the state of man: to-day he puts forth the tender leaves of hopes; to-morrow blossoms, and bears his blushing honours thick upon him; the third day comes a frost, a killing frost, and, when he thinks, good easy man, full surely his greatness is a-ripening, nips his root, and then he falls, as i do. I have ventur’d, like little wanton boys that swim on bladders, this many summers in a sea of glory, but far beyond my depth. My high-blown pride at length broke under me, and now has left me, weary and old with service, to the mercy of a rude stream that must for ever hide me. Vain pomp and glory of this world, I hate ye!i feel my heart new open’d. O, how wretched is that poor man that hangs on princes favours! There is, betwixt that smile we would aspire to, that sweet aspect of princes, and their ruin, more pangs and fears than wars or women have; and when he falls, he falls like Lucifer, never to hope again. Henry VIII, Act iii, Scene 3

So mak'st thou faith an enemy to faith; and, like a civil war, sett'st oath to oath, thy tongue against thy tongue.

So shall you hear of carnal, bloody, and unnatural acts, of accidental judgments, casual slaughters, of deaths put on by cunning and forced cause, and, in this upshot, purposes mistook fall'n on th' inventors' heads. Hamlet Prince of Denmark (Horatio at V, ii)

So they, Doubly redoubled strokes.

Author Picture
First Name
William
Last Name
Shakespeare
Birth Date
1564
Death Date
1616
Bio

English Playwright, Poet, Most widely known Writer in English Literature