"For the poor wren (The most diminutive of birds) will fight, Her young ones in her nest, against the owl."
Quote collection
William Shakespeare quotes (page 23 of 202)
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"O, I have suffered With those that I saw suffer! a brave vessel (Who had no doubt some noble creature in her) Dashed all to pieces! O, the cry did knock Against my very heart! Poor souls, they perished!"
"Cease to lament for that thou canst not help; and study help for that which thou lamentest."
"Well-apparel'd April on the heel Of limping Winter treads."
"Take you me for a sponge?"
"And this, our life, exempt from public haunt, finds tongues in trees, books in the running brooks, sermons in stones, and good in everything."
"Truth is truth to the end of reckoning."
"Do all men kill the things they do not love ............ The quality of mercy is not strain'd It droppeth as the gentle rain from heaven Upon the place beneath: it is twice blest It blesseth him that gives and him that takes"
"See how she leans her cheek upon her hand. O, that I were a glove upon that hand That I might touch that cheek!"
"Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon, Who is already sick and pale with grief That thou, her maid, art far more fair than she. . . ."
"A woman is a dish for the gods, if the devil dress her not."
"Alas, poor Yorick! I knew him, Horatio: a fellow of infinite jest, of most excellent fancy: he hath borne me on his back a thousand times; and now, how abhorred in my imagination it is! my gorge rims at it. Here hung those lips that I have kissed I know not how oft. Where be your gibes now? your gambols? your songs? your flashes of merriment, that were wont to set the table on a roar? Not one now, to mock your own grinning? quite chap-fallen?"
"It is silliness to live when to live is torment."
"Words without thoughts never to heaven go."
"Seems," madam? Nay, it is; I know not "seems." 'Tis not alone my inky cloak, good mother, Nor customary suits of solemn black, Nor windy suspiration of forced breath, No, nor the fruitful river in the eye, Nor the dejected 'havior of the visage, Together with all forms, moods, shapes of grief, That can denote me truly: these indeed seem, For they are actions that a man might play: But I have that within which passeth show; These but the trappings and the suits of woe."
"Sound trumpets! Let our bloody colours wave! And either victory, or else a grave."
"Brutus, I do observe you now of late: I have not from your eyes that gentleness And show of love as I was wont to have: You bear too stubborn and too strange a hand Over your friend that loves you. Poor Brutus, with himself at war, Forgets the shows of love to other men."
"O, pardon me, thou bleeding piece of earth, / That I am meek and gentle with these butchers!"
"Ay, in the catalogue ye go for men; As hounds, and greyhounds, mongrels, spaniels, curs, Shoughs, water-rugs, and demi-wolves, are 'clept All by the name of dogs: the valued file Distinguishes the swift, the slow, the subtle, The housekeeper, the hunter, every one According to the gift which bounteous nature Hath in him closed."
"I am in blood Stepp'd in so far, that, should I wade no more, Returning were as tedious as go o'er."