William Shakespeare You Quotations

Good night, good night! Parting is such sweet sorrow, that I shall say good night till it be morrow.

Kindness in women, not their beauteous looks, Shall win my love.

Such as we are made of, such we be.

The stroke of death is as a lover's pinch, which hurts and is desired.

The lunatic, the lover, and the poet, are of imagination all compact.

O wonderful, wonderful, and most wonderful wonderful! And yet again wonderful, and after that, out of all hooping.

To unpathed waters, undreamed shores.

Hereafter, in a better world than this, I shall desire more love and knowledge of you

Most friendship is feigning, most loving mere folly.

She dreams of him that has forgot her love; You dote on her that cares not for your love. 'Tis pity love should be so contrary; And thinking of it makes me cry 'alas!

We came into the world like brother and brother, And now let's go hand in hand, not one before another.

Tempt not a desperate man

Oh why rebuke you him that loves you so? / Lay breath so bitter on your bitter foe.

Time travels in divers paces with divers persons. I'll tell you who Time ambles withal, who Time trots withal, who Time gallops withal, and who he stands still withal.

My love is deep; the more I give to thee, the more I have, both are infinite.

And so, from hour to hour, we ripe and ripe. And then, from hour to hour, we rot and rot; And thereby hangs a tale.

If I were a woman I would kiss as many of you as had beards that pleased me, complexions that liked me and breaths that I defied not

The horn, the horn, the lusty horn Is not a thing to laugh to scorn.

A table-full of welcome!

And in the end... the love you get equals the love you give

Beauty provoketh thieves sooner than gold.

Out of my sight! Thou dost infect mine eyes.

My affection hath an unknown bottom, like the Bay of Portugal.

I am falser than vows made in wine.

A lean cheek, - a blue eye, and sunken, - an unquestionable spirit, - a beard neglected:- Then your hose should be ungartered, your bonnet unhanded, your sleeve unbuttoned, your shoe untied, and every thing about you demonstrating a careless desolation.

I know a lady in Venice would have walked barefoot to Palestine for a touch of his nether lip

O, how full of briers is this working-day world!

The dullness of the fool is the whetstone of the wits.

You know who you are, but know not who you could be.

And therefore is love said to be a child, Because in choice he is so oft beguil'd

We cannot fight for love, as men may do; we shou'd be woo'd, and were not made to woo

So far be distant; and good night, sweet friend: thy love ne'er alter, till they sweet life end

Say, thou art mine; and ever, My love, as it begins, shall so persevere

Love, which teacheth me that thou and I am one

If thou remeber'st not the slightest folly that ever love did make thee run into, thou hast not lov'd

I know no ways to mince it in love, but directly to say - I love you

By Heaven, my soul is purg'd from grudging hate; And with my hand I seal my true heart's love

What? do I love her, that I desire to hear her speak again, and feast upon her eyes

Oh, injurious love, that respites me a life, whose very comfort is still a dying horror

I have pursued her, as love hath pursued me

What made me love thee? let that persuade thee, there's something extraordinary in thee

I love thee; none but thee, and thou deservest it

Alas, that love, whose view is muffled still, Should without eyes see pathways to his will!

With love's light wings did I o'er-perch these walls, for stony limits cannot hold love out

By Heaven, I love thee better than myself

Is it possible that love should of a sudden take such a hold?

I love thee, and it is my love that speaks

Ere I could make thee open thy white hand, and clap thyself my love; then didst thou utter, I am your's for ever!

Thou ever young, fresh, lov'd, and delicate wooer, whose blush doth thaw the consecrated snow

O, spirit of love, how quick and fresh art thou!

Sweet love! Sweet lines! Sweet life! Here is her hand, the agent of her heart; Here is her oath for love, her honour's pawn

I have lov'd her ever since I saw her; and still I see her beautiful

For love, thou know'st, is full of jealousy

My love is thaw'd; Which, like a waxen image 'gainst a fire, bears no impression of the thing it was

As love is full of unbefitting strains, All wanton as a child, skipping and vain, Form'd by the eye and therefore, like the eye, Full of strange shapes, of habits and of forms, Varying in subjects as the eye doth roll To every varied object in his glance

So loving to my mother, That he might not beteem the winds of heaven, Visit her face' too roughly.

Let me not to the marriage of true minds Admit impediments. Love is not love Which alters when it alteration finds, Or bends with the remover to remove: O no! it is an ever-fixed mark That looks on tempests and is never shaken; It is the star to every wandering bark, Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken. Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks Within his bending sickle's compass come: Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks, But bears it out even to the edge of doom. If this be error and upon me proved, I never writ, nor no man ever loved.

Eternity was in our lips and eyes, Bliss in our brows' bent; none our parts so poor But was a race of heaven.

Have I caught thee, my heavenly jewel? Why, now let me die, for I have lived long enough.

Such is my love, to thee I so belong, That for thy right myself will bear all wrong.

But love, first learned in a lady's eyes, Lives not alone immured in the brain; But, with the motion of all elements, Courses as swift as thought in every power, And gives to every power a double power, Above their functions and their offices.

The sight of lovers feedeth those in love.

I love thee so, that, maugre all thy pride, Nor wit nor reason can my passion hide. Do not extort thy reasons from this clause, For that I woo, thou therefore hast no cause But rather reason thus with reason fetter, Love sought is good, but given unsought better.

Never durst poet touch a pen to write Until his ink were temper'd with Love's sighs;

The prize of all too precious you.

For thy sweet love remember'd such wealth brings That then I scorn to change my state with kings.

He says, he loves my daughter; I think so too; for never gaz'd the moon Upon the water, as he'll stand and read, As 'twere, my daughter's eyes: and, to be plain, I think, there is not half a kiss to choose, Who loves another best.

There's beggary in love that can be reckoned

What is light, if Sylvia be not seen? What is joy if Sylvia be not by?

Come what sorrow can, It cannot countervail the exchange of joy, That one short minute gives me in her sight

Her passions are made of nothing but the finest part of pure love

Lovers can do their amorous rites by their own beauties

Love hath made thee a tame snake

Oh, how this spring of love resembleth, The uncertain glory of an April day, Which now shows all beauty of the Sun, And by and by a cloud takes all away

I will not be sworn but love may transform me to an oyster

In thy youth wast as true a lover, As ever sighed upon a midnight pillow

You cannot call it love, for at your age the heyday in the blood is tame

She will die if you love her not, And she will die ere she might make her love known

Men's vows are women's traitors

Love will not be spurred to what it loathes

They are in the very wrath of love, and they will go together. Clubs cannot part them

What a pretty thing man is when he goes in his doublet and hose and leaves off his wit!

Is this the generation of love? Hot blood, hot thoughts and hot deeds? Why, they are vipers. Is love a generation of vipers?

Lovers ever run before the clock

I'll make my heaven in a lady's lap

I humbly do beseech of your pardon, For too much loving you

Kiss me, Kate, we shall be married o'Sunday

Shall I compare thee to a summer day? Thou art more lovely and more temperate... When in eternal lines to time thou growst So long as men can breathe or eyes can see, So long lives this, and this gives life to thee.

Love denied blights the soul we owe to God.

My story starts at sea, a perilous voyage to an unknown land. A shipwreck. The wild waters roar and heave. The brave vessel is dashed all to pieces. And all the helpless souls within her drowned. All save one. A lady. Whose soul is greater than the ocean, and her spirit stronger than the sea's embrace. Not for her a watery end, but a new life beginning on a stranger shore. It will be a love story. For she will be my heroine for all time. And her name will be Viola.

I'll follow thee and make a heaven of hell, To die upon the hand I love so well

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

I'll say she looks as clear as morning roses newly washed with dew.

This is the very ecstasy of love.

For you and I are past our dancing days.

Then come kiss me, sweet and twenty.

As chaste as unsunned snow.

All lovers swear more performance than they are able, and yet reserve an ability that they never perform; vowing more than the perfection of ten, and discharging less than the tenth part of one.

We will draw the curtain and show you the picture.

You draw me, you hard-hearted adamant; But yet you draw not iron, for my heart Is true as steel: leave you your power to draw, And I shall have no power to follow you.