William Shakespeare Father Quotations

Children wish fathers looked but with their eyes; fathers that children with their judgment looked; and either may be wrong.

I may neither choose who I would, nor refuse who I dislike; so is the will of a living daughter curbed by the will of a dead father.

O father Abram! what these Christians are,Whose own hard dealings teaches them suspectThe thoughts of others!

My father's brother, but no more like my father Than I to Hercules

To you your father should be as a god; One that composed your beauties, yea, and one To whom you are but as a form in wax, By him imprinted, and within his power To leave the figure or disfigure it.

Yes, faith; it is my cousin's duty to make curtsy and say 'Father, as it please you.' But yet for all that, cousin, let him be a handsome fellow, or else make another curtsy and say 'Father, as it please me.

Look to her, Moor, if thou has eyes to see. She has deceived her father, and may thee.

Either to die the death or to abjure For ever the society of men. Therefore, fair Hermia, question your desires; Know of your youth, examine well your blood, Whether, if you yield not to your father's choice, You can endure the livery of a nun, For aye to be in shady cloister mew'd, To live a barren sister all your life, Chanting faint hymns to the cold fruitless moon. Thrice-blessed they that master so their blood, To undergo such maiden pilgrimage; But earthlier happy is the rose distill'd, Than that which withering on the virgin thorn Grows, lives and dies in single blessedness.

DEMETRIUS Relent, sweet Hermia: and, Lysander, yield Thy crazed title to my certain right. LYSANDER You have her father's love, Demetrius; Let me have Hermia's: do you marry him.

There’s rosemary, that’s for remembrance; pray, love, remember; and there is pansies, that’s for thoughts... There’s fennel for you, and columbines; there’s rue for you, and here’s some for me; we may call it herb of grace o’ Sundays. O, you must wear your rue with a difference. There’s a daisy. I would give you some violets, but they wither’d all when my father died. They say he made a good end,— [Sings.] “For bonny sweet Robin is all my joy.

Her father lov'd me; oft invited me; Still question'd me the story of my life, From year to year, the battles, sieges, fortunes, That I have pass'd.

No .... holy father, throw away that thought. Believe not that the dribbling dart of love Can pierce a complete bosom.

Which means she to deceive, father or mother?

Full fathom five thy father lies

Withal I did infer your lineaments, Being the right idea of your father, Both in your form and nobleness of mind; Laid open all your victories in Scotland, Your discipline in war, wisdom in peace, Your bounty, virtue, fair humility; Indeed, left nothing fitting for your purpose Untouch'd or slightly handled in discourse.

My father's wit, and my mother's tongue, assist me!

How quickly nature falls into revolt When gold becomes her object! For this the foolish over-careful fathers Have broke their sleep with thoughts, their brains with care, Their bones with industry.

O father Abram, what these Christians are, Whose own hard dealing teaches them suspect The thoughts of others!

Tis a happy thing To be the father unto many sons.

Thy wish was father, Harry, to that thought.

Good Hamlet, cast thy nighted colour off ... Do not for ever with thy vailed lids Seek for thy noble father in the dust.

The Dear father Would with his daughter speak, commands her service; Are they inform'd of this?

To you your father should be as a god.

You have her father's love, Demetrius; Let me have Hermia's: do you marry him!

O, that our fathers would applause our loves, To seal our happiness with hteir consents!

As a decrepit father takes delight To see his active child do deeds of youth, So I, made lame by fortune's dearest spite, Take all my comfort of thy worth and truth.

Methinks a father Is at the nuptial of his son a guest That best becomes the table.

What should a man do but be merry? For look you how cheerfully my mother looks, and my father died within's two hours.

Zounds! I was never so bethumped with words since I first called my brother's father dad.

If it be you that stirs these daughters' hearts Against their father, fool me not so much To bear it tamely; touch me with noble anger, And let not women's weapons, water drops, Stain my man's cheeks.

What thing, in honor, had my father lost, That need to be revived and breathed in me?

Poor Desdemona! I am glad thy father's dead. Thy match was mortal to him, and pure grief Shore his old thread in twain.

Full fathom five thy father lies; Of his bones are coral made; Those are pearls that were his eyes: Nothing of him that doth fade, But doth suffer a sea-change Into something rich and strange. Sea-nymphs hourly ring his knell: Ding-dong Hark! now I hear them,—Ding-dong, bell.

If by chance I talk a little wild, forgive me; I had it from my father.

She told her, while she kept it, 'Twould make her amiable and subdue my father Entirely to her love, but if she lost it Or made a gift of it, my father's eye Should hold her loathed and his spirits should hunt After new fancies.

All surfeit is the father of much fast.

My father names me Autolycus, who being, as I am, littered under Mercury, was likewise a snapper-up of unconsidered trifles.

My father compounded with my mother under the Dragon's tail, and my nativity was under Ursa Major, so that it follows, I am roughand lecherous. Tut, I should have been that I am, had the maidenliest star in the firmament twinkled on my bastardizing.

I am thy father's spirit; Doom'd for a certain term to walk the night And, for the day, confin'd to fast in fires, Till the foul crimes, done in my days of nature, Are burnt and purg'd away.