Quotes by William Shakespeare

What a piece of work is a man! how noble in reason! how infinite in faculty! in form and moving how express and admirable! in action how like an angel! in apprehension how like a god! the beauty of the world! the paragon of animals! And yet to me what is this quintessence of dust? man delights not me: no nor woman neidier though by your smiling you seem to say so.

His life was gentle and the elements So mixd in him that Nature might stand up And say to all the world This was a man!

Men are April when they woo December when they wed maids are May when they are maids but the sky changes when they are wives.

Goodnight! Goodnight! Parting is such sweet sorrow That I shall say goodnight til it be morrow.

Tis mightiest in the mightiest it becomes The throned monarch better than his crown His sceptre shows the force of temporal power The attribute to awe and majesty Wherein doth sit the dread and fear of kings But mercy is above this sceptred sway It is enthroned in the hearts of kings It is an attribute to God himself And earthly power doth then show likest Gods When mercy seasons justice.

Tis but a base ignoble mind That mounts no higher than a bird can soar.

Misery acquaints a man with strange bedfellows.

The worst is not sSo long as we can say This is the worst.

Neither a borrower nor a lender be for loan oft loses both itself and friend and borrowing dulls the edge of husbandry.

As full of spirit as the month of May.

The ides of March are come.

The grey-eyd morn smiles on the frowning night Chequering the eastern clouds with streaks of light.

Murder most foul as in the best it is But this most foul strange and unnatural.

For murder though it have no tongue will speak With most miraculous organ.

The man that hath no music in himself Nor is no moved with concord of sweet sounds Is fit for treasons stratagems and spoils.

I cannot tell what the dickens his name is.

But he that filches from me my good name Robs me of that which not enriches him And makes me poor indeed.

Whats in a name? that which we call a rose By any other name would smell as sweet.

To hold as t were the mirror up to nature.

One touch of nature makes the whole world kin.