Background Image

...

A Pox O’ Your Throat, You Bawling, Blasphemous, Incharitable Dog!

-William Shakespeare

...

Please Wait....
Translating....

A Pox O’ Your

William Shakespeare

...

A Pox O’ Your Throat, You Bawling, Blasphemous, Incharitable Dog!

Views: 10

Topic

More From William Shakespeare

I Have Not Slept. Between The Acting Of A Dreadful Thing And The First Motion, All The Interim Is Like A Phantasma, Or A Hideous Dream: The Genius And The Mortal Instruments Are Then In Council; And The State Of Man, Like To A Little Kingdom, Suffers Then The Nature Of An Insurrection.

How Well He's Read, To Reason Against Reading!

All The World's A Stage, And All The Men And Women Mearly Players.

Defer No Time, Delays Have Dangerous Ends.

Procrastination

Stones Have Been Known To Move And Trees To Speak.

So All My Best Is Dressing Old Words New.

Use Almost Can Change The Stamp Of Nature.

It Was Always Yet The Trick Of Our English Nation, If They Have A Good Thing, To Make It Too Common.

Mine Honor Is My Life, Both Grow In One. Take Honor From Me, And My Life Is Done. Then, Dear My Liege, Mine Honor Let Me Try; In That I Live, And For That I Will Die.

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

Better Three Hours Too Soon Than A Minute Too Late.

A Hundred Thousand Welcomes: I Could Weep, And I Could Laugh; I Am Light And Heavy: Welcome.

Tis Often Seen Adoption Strives With Nature; And Choice Breeds A Native Slip To Us From Foreign Lands.

Do Not Banish Reason For Inequality; But Let Your Reason Serve To Make The Truth Appear Where It Seems Hid, And Hide The False Seems True.

There Are Occasions And Causes, Why And Wherefore In All Things.

O, Full Of Scorpions Is My Mind!

Then Happy I That Love And Am Beloved, Where I May Not Remove Nor Be Removed.

Friendship Is Full Of Dregs.

Time Is The King Of Men.

To Fear The Foe, Since Fear Oppresseth Strength, Gives, In Your Weakness, Strength Unto Your Foe, And So Your Follies Fight Against Yourself. Fear, And Be Slain--so Worse Can Come To Fight; And Fight And Die Is Death Destroying Death, Where Fearing Dying Pays Death Servile Breath.

When The Mind's Free, The Body's Delicate.

They Are But Beggars That Can Count Their Worth.

Thou And I Are Too Wise To Woo Peaceably.

Old Time The Clock-setter.

The Blood Weeps From My Heart When I Do Shape, In Forms Imaginary, Th' Unguided Days And Rotten Times That You Shall Look Upon When I Am Sleeping With My Ancestors.

His Life Was Gentle; And The Elements So Mixed In Him, That Nature Might Stand Up And Say To All The World, This Was A Man!

Like A Man Made After Supper Of A Cheese-paring: When A' Was Naked, He Was, For All The World, Like A Forked Radish, With A Head Fantastically Carved Upon It With A Knife.

Speak The Speech, I Pray You, As I Pronounced It To You-trippingly On The Tongue; But If You Mouth It, As Many Of Your Players Do, I Had As Lief The Town-crier Spoke My Lines. Nor Do Not Saw The Air Too Much With Your Hand, Thus, But Use All Gently; For In The Very Torrent, Tempest, And As I May Say, The Whirlwind Of Your Passion, You Must Acquire And Beget A Temperance That May Give It Smoothness.

The Wildest Hath Not Such A Heart As You. Run When You Will, The Story Shall Be Changed: Apollo Flies, And Daphne Holds The Chase; The Dove Pursues The Griffin; The Mild Hind Makes Speed To Catch The Tiger; Bootless Speed, When Cowardice Pursues And Valour Flies.

Weariness Can Snore Upon The Flint When Resting Sloth Finds The Down Pillow Hard.

Th Abuse Of Greatness Is When It Disjoins Remorse From Power.

I Can Give The Loser Leave To Chide.

It Were A Grief So Brief To Part With Thee. Farewell.

Hear My Soul Speak. Of The Very Instant That I Saw You, Did My Heart Fly At Your Service

We Fail! But Screw Your Courage To The Sticking-place, And We'll Not Fail.

No, I Will Be The Pattern Of All Patience; I Will Say Nothing.

But Now I Am Cabined, Cribbed, Confined, Bound In To Saucy Doubts And Fears.

Beauty, Wit, High Birth, Vigour Of Bone, Desert In Service, Love, Friendship, Charity, Are Subjects All To Envious And Calumniating Time.

We Must Every One Be A Man Of His Own Fancy.

Truly Thou Art Damned, Like An Ill-roasted Egg, All On One Side.

I Am Not In The Roll Of Common Men.

Thrice Is He Arm'd That Hath His Quarrel Just, And He But Naked, Though Lock'd Up In Steel, Whose Conscience With Injustice Is Corrupted.

The Sudden Hand Of Death Close Up Mine Eye!

Thus We Play The Fool With The Time And The Spirits Of The Wise Sit In The Clouds And Mock Us.

Manhood Is Melted Into Courtesies, Valor Into Compliment, And Men Are Only Turned Into Tongue, And Trim Ones, Too.

Their Lips Were Four Red Roses On A Stalk.

And Ruin`d Love When It Is Built Anew, Grows Fairer Than At First, More Strong, Far Greater

How Use Doth Breed A Habit In A Man.

Love Goes Toward Love As Schoolboys From Their Books, But Love From Love, Toward School With Heavy Looks.

All Places That The Eye Of Heaven Visits Are To A Wise Man Ports And Happy Havens. Teach Thy Necessity To Reason Thus; There Is No Virtue Like Necessity.

There Is None Of My Uncle's Marks Upon You; He Taught Me How To Know A Man In Love; In Which Cage Of Rushes I Am Sure You Are Not Prisoner.

Be Like You Thought Our Love Would Last Too Long, If It Were Chain'd Together

For I Have Neither Wit, Nor Words, Nor Worth, Action, Nor Utterance, Nor The Power Of Speech, To Stir Men's Blood: I Only Speak Right On; I Tell You That Which You Yourselves Do Know.

God Shall Be My Hope, My Stay, My Guide And Lantern To My Feet.

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.

Thus Die I, Thus, Thus, Thus. Now Am I Dead, Now Am I Fled; My Soul Is In The Sky: Tongue, Lose Thy Light; Moon Take Thy Flight. Now Die, Die, Die, Die, Die.

Love's Gentle Spring Doth Always Fresh Remain.

An Old Black Ram Is Tupping Your White Ewe

He Hath Disgrac'd Me And Hind'red Me Half A Million; Laugh'd At My Losses, Mock'd At My Gains, Scorned My Nation, Thwarted My Bargains, Cooled My Friends, Heated My Enemies. And What's His Reason? I Am A Jew.

If By Chance I Talk A Little Wild, Forgive Me; I Had It From My Father.

Nay, Had I Pow'r, I Should Pour The Sweet Milk Of Concord Into Hell, Uproar The Universal Peace, Confound All Unity On Earth.

I Had Rather Chop This Hand Off At A Blow, And With The Other Fling It At Thy Face.

But Miserable Most, To Love Unloved? This You Should Pity Rather Than Despise

Thou Hast Nor Youth Nor Age But As It Were An After Dinner Sleep Dreaming Of Both.

A Man May Fish With The Worm That Hath Eat Of A King, And Eat Of The Fish That Hath Fed Of That Worm

Our Remedies Oft In Ourselves Do Lie, Which We Ascribe To Heaven.

How Soar Sweet Music Is, When Time Is Broke, And No Proportion Kept!

This Is The Very Coinage Of Your Brain: This Bodiless Creation Ecstasy.

I Cannot Tell What The Dickens His Name Is.

We That Are True Lovers Run Into Strange Capers; But As All Is Mortal In Nature, So Is All Nature In Love Mortal In Folly.

The Sands Are Number'd That Make Up My Life; Here Must I Stay, And Here My Life Must End.

Fair Youth, I Would I Could Make Thee Believe I Love.

Reputation Is An Idle And Most False Imposition; Oft Got Without Merit, And Lost Without Deserving.

Rumor Is A Pipe Blown By Surmises, Jealousies, Conjectures.

Fortune Is Merry, And In This Mood Will Give Us Anything.

So Distribution Should Undo Excess, And Each Man Have Enough.

O Comfort-killing Night, Image Of Hell, Dim Register And Notary Of Shame, Black Stage For Tragedies And Murders Fell, Vast Sin-concealing Chaos, Nurse Of Blame!

Alas, Their Love May Be Call'd Appetite. No Motion Of The Liver, But The Palate

Take Physic, Pomp; Expose Thyself To Feel What Wretches Feel, That Thou Mayst Shake The Superflux To Them And Show The Heavens More Just.

Captain Of Our Fairy Band, Helena Is Here At Hand, And The Youth, Mistook By Me, Pleading For A Lover's Fee. Shall We Their Fond Pageant See? Lord, What Fools These Mortals Be!

Put Money In Thy Purse.

Foul Cankering Rust The Hidden Treasure Frets, But Gold That's Put To Use More Gold Begets.

Very Good Orators, When They Are Out, They Will Spit; And For Lovers, Lacking--god Warn Us!--matter, The Cleanliest Shift Is To Kiss.

A Little Water Clears Us Of This Deed.

Eye Of Newt, And Toe Of Frog, Wool Of Bat, And Tongue Of Dog, Adder's Fork, And Blind-worm's Sting, Lizard's Leg, And Owlet's Wing, For A Charm Of Powerful Trouble, Like A Hell-broth Boil And Bubble.

Haste Is Needful In A Desperate Case.

But The Strong Base And Building Of My Love Is As The Very Centre Of The Earth, Drawing All Things To It.

They That Touch Pitch Will Be Defiled.

Conceit, More Rich In Matter Than In Words, Brags Of His Substance, Not Of Ornament: They Are But Beggars That Can Count Their Worth; But My True Love Is Grown To Such Excess, I Cannot Sum Up Half My Sum Of Wealth.

Thy Food Is Such As Hath Been Belch'd On By Infected Lungs.

A Fool, A Fool! I Met A Fool I' Th' Forest, A Motley Fool! A Miserable World! As I Do Live By Food, I Met A Fool Who Laid Him Down And Basked Him In The Sun And Railed On Lady Fortune In Good Terms, In Good Set Terms, And Yet A Motley Fool.

There's Not A Note Of Mine That's Worth The Noting.

The Thorny Point Of Bare Distress Hath Ta'en From Me The Show Of Smooth Civility; Yet Am I Inland Bred And Know Some Nurture.

Where Hateful Death Put On His Ugliest Mask.

Justice Always Whirls In Equal Measure.

For This Relief Much Thanks. 'tis Bitter Cold, And I Am Sick At Heart.

Gnarling Sorrow Hath Less Power To Bite The Man That Mocks At It And Sets It Light.

What Made Me Love Thee? Let That Persuade Thee, There's Something Extraordinary In Thee

And What Art Thou, Thou Idol Ceremony? What Kind Of God Art Thou, That Suffer'st More Of Mortal Griefs Than Do Thy Worshippers?

As You From Crimes Would Pardon'd Be, Let Your Indulgence Set Me Free.

Who Can Be Patient In Extremes?

Our Wills And Fates Do So Contrary Run, That Our Devices Still Are Overthrown; Our Thoughts Are Ours, Their Ends None Of Our Own.

To Kill, I Grant, Is Sin's Extremest Gust; But, In Defence, By Mercy, 'tis Most Just.

All Pride Is Willing Pride.

The Devil Can Cite Scripture For His Purpose. An Evil Soul Producing Holy Witness Is Like A Villain With A Smiling Cheek, A Goodly Apple Rotten At The Heart. O, What A Goodly Outside Falsehood Hath!

Come, And Take Choice Of All My Library, And So Beguile Thy Sorrow.

She Cannot Love, Nor Take No Shape Nor Project Or Affection, She Is So Self-endeared

Shall I Compare Thee To A Summer's Day?

Call Me What Instrument You Will, Though You Can Fret Me, You Cannot Play Upon Me.

Important Hamlet

The Words Of Mercury Are Harsh After The Songs Of Apollo.

Away, You Trifler! Love! I Love Thee Not, I Care Not For Thee, Kate: This Is No World To Play With Mammets And To Tilt With Lips: We Must Have Bloody Noses And Cracked Crowns.

But I Will Be, A Bridegroom In My Death, And Run Into't As To A Lover's Bed.

O That A Lady, Of One Man Refused, Should Of Another Therefore Be Abused!

This Senior-junior, Giant-dwarf, Dan Cupid; Regent Of Love-rhymes, Lord Of Folded Arms, The Anointed Sovereign Of Sighs And Groans, Liege Of All Loiterers And Malcontents.

I Have Touched The Highest Point Of All My Greatness.

Your Praises Will Become Your Wages.

The Eye Sees All, But The Mind Shows Us What We Want To See.

She Says I Am Not Fair, That I Lack Manners; She Calls Me Proud, And That She Could Not Love Me, Were Man As Rare As Phoenix.

So Shalt Thou Feed On Death, That Feeds On Men.

Two Loves I Have, Of Comfort And Despair, Which Like Two Spirits Do Suggest Me Still: The Better Angel Is A Man Right Fair, The Worser Spirit A Woman Coloured Ill.

Is It Thy Will, Thy Image Should Keep Open My Heavy Eyelids To The Weary Night? Dost Thou Desire My Slumbers Should Be Broken, While Shadows Like To Thee Do Mock My Sight? Is It Thy Spirit That Thou Send'st From Thee So Far From Home Into My Deeds To Pry, To Find Out Shames And Idle Hours In Me, The Scope And Tenor Of Thy Jealousy? O, No! Thy Love, Though Much, Is Not So Great: It Is My Love That Keeps Mine Eye Awake: Mine Own True Love That Doth My Rest Defeat, To Play The Watchman Ever For Thy Sake: For Thee Watch I, Whilst Thou Dost Wake Elsewhere, From Me Far Off, With Others All Too Near.

A Golden Mind Stoops Not To Shows Of Dross.

Let Me Not To The Marriage Of True Minds Admit Impediments: Love Is Not Love Which Alters When It Alteration Finds.

Oh, Injurious Love, That Respites Me A Life, Whose Very Comfort Is Still A Dying Horror

Dream On, Dream On, Of Bloody Deeds And Death.

But Now Behold, In The Quick Forge And Working-house Of Thought, How London Doth Pour Out Her Citizens!

Light Boats Sail Swift, Though Greater Hulks Draw Deep.

My Will Enkindled By Mine Eyes And Ears, Two Traded Pilots 'twixt The Dangerous Shores Of Will And Judgment.

Hate Pollutes The Mind.

O, While You Live, Tell Truth, And Shame The Devil!

Words Spoken Can Not Be Recalled So Think Twice Before You Speak.

Nothing 'gainst Times Scythe Can Make Defence.

We Have Seen Better Days.

An Habitation Giddy And Unsure Hath He That Buildeth On The Vulgar Heart.

I Love Thee, And It Is My Love That Speaks

Loathsome Canker Lives In Sweetest Bud.

No, By My Soul, I Never In My Life Did Hear A Challenge Urged More Modestly, Unless A Brother Should A Brother Dare To Gentle Exercise And Proof Of Arms.

A Table Full Of Welcome Makes Scarce One Dainty Dish.

Life's Uncertain Voyage.

If I May Trust The Flattering Truth Of Sleep, My Dreams Presage Some Joyful News At Hand. My Bosom's Lord Sits Lightly In His Throne, And All This Day An Unaccustomed Spirit Lifts Me Above The Ground With Cheerful Thoughts.

One Man In His Time Plays Many Parts.

For I Am He Am Born To Tame You, Kate; And Bring You From A Wild Kate To A Kate Conformable As Other Household Kates.

Before Thee Stands This Fair Hesperides, With Golden Fruit, But Dangerous To Be Touched; For Death-like Dragons Here Affright Thee Hard.

That We Would Do We Should Do When We Would, For This 'would' Changes, And Hath Abatements And Delays As Many As There Are Tongues, Are Hands, Are Accidents, And Then This 'should' Is Like A Spendthrift Sigh, That Hurts By Easing.

A Woman Would Run Through Fire And Water For Such A Kind Heart.

By Heaven, I Do Love: And It Hath Taught Me To Rhyme, And To Be Mekancholy.

He Was Too Good To Be Where Ill Men Were, And Was The Best Of All Amongst The Rar'st Of Good Ones- Sitting Sadly Hearing Us Praise Our Loves Of Italy For Beauty That Made Barren The Swell'd Boast Of Him That Best Could Speak; For Feature, Laming The Shrine Of Venus Or Straight-pight Minerva, Postures Beyond Brief Nature; For Condition, A Shop Of All The Qualities That Man Loves Woman For; Besides That Hook Of Wiving, Fairness Which Strikes The Eye- Cymbeline.

Ay Me! Sad Hours Seem Long.

What If This Cursed Hand Were Thicker Than Itself With Brother's Blood Is There Not Rain Enough In The Sweet Heaves To Wash It White As Snow?

Tremble, Thou Wretch, That Hast Within Thee Undivulged Crimes Unwhipped Of Justice.

Tis A Cruelty To Load A Fallen Man.

When Sorrows Come, They Come Not Single Spies, But In Battalions.

While He Was Drunk Asleep, Or In His Rage, Or In The Incestuous Pleasure Of His Bed.

Ideas Are The Very Coinage Of Your Brain.

When Daisies Pied And Violets Blue And Lady-smocks All Silver-white And Cuckoo-buds Of Yellow Hue Do Paint The Meadows With Delight, The Cuckoo Then, On Every Tree, Mocks Married Men; For Thus Sings He, Cuckoo; Cuckoo, Cuckoo; O, Word Of Fear, Unpleasing To A Married Ear.

I Wish My Horse Had The Speed Of Your Tongue.

Thus Sometimes Hath The Brightest Day A Cloud; And After Summer Evermore Succeeds Barren Winter, With His Wrathful Nipping Cold: So Cares And Joys Abound, As Seasons Fleet.

Romans, Countrymen, And Lovers, Hear Me For My Cause, And Be Silent, That You May Hear.

Greatest Scandal Waits On Greatest State.

I Drink To The General Joy O’ The Whole Table." Macbeth

Macbeth: How Does Your Patient, Doctor? Doctor: Not So Sick, My Lord, As She Is Troubled With Thick-coming Fancies That Keep Her From Rest. Macbeth: Cure Her Of That! Canst Thou Not Minister To A Mind Diseased, Pluck From The Memory A Rooted Sorrow, Raze Out The Written Troubles Of The Brain, And With Some Sweet Oblivious Antidote Cleanse The Stuffed Bosom Of That Perilous Stuff Which Weighs Upon Her Heart. Doctor: Therein The Patient Must Minister To Himself.

Heaven Truly Knows That Thou Art False As Hell.

To Be Furious, Is To Be Frighted Out Of Fear.

That Island Of England Breeds Very Valiant Creatures; Their Mastiffs Are Of Unmatchable Courage.

Poor And Content, Is Rich And Rich Enough; But Riches, Fineless, Is As Poor As Winter, To Him That Ever Fears He Shall Be Poor.

Self Improvement

I Say There Is No Darkness But Ignorance.

I'll Give My Jewels For A Set Of Beads, My Gorgeous Palace For A Hermitage, My Gay Apparel For An Almsman's Gown, My Figured Goblets For A Dish Of Wood, My Scepter For A Palmer's Walking Staff My Subjects For A Pair Of Carved Saints And My Large Kingdom For A Little Grave.

What Can Be Happier Than For A Man, Conscious Of Virtuous Acts, And Content With Liberty, To Despise All Human Affairs?

The Mind Of Guilt Is Full Of Scorpions.

The Latter End Of A Fray, And The Beginning Of A Feast, Fits A Dull Fighter, And A Keen Guest.

I Cannot, Nor I Will Not Hold Me Still; My Tongue, Though Not My Heart, Shall Have His Will.

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.

Great Griefs Medicine The Less.

I Can Get No Remedy Against This Consumption Of The Purse: Borrowing Only Lingers And Lingers It Out, But The Disease Is Incurable.

Some Kinds Of Baseness Are Nobly Undergone.

To Thine Own Self Be True, And It Must Follow, As The Night The Day, Thou Canst Not Then Be False To Any Man.

Commit The Oldest Sins The Newest Kind Of Ways.

What A Piece Of Work Is A Man

What Is Done Cannot Be Now Amended.

There Is No Slander In An Allowed Fool, Though He Do Nothing But Rail.

Farewell, My Sister, Fare Thee Well. The Elements Be Kind To Thee, And Make Thy Spirits All Of Comfort: Fare Thee Well.

Love Runs Away From Those Chasing Her, And Those Who Run Away, She Throws Herself On His Neck.

The Weariest And Most Loathed Worldly Life, That Age, Ache, Penury And Imprisonment Can Lay On Nature Is A Paradise, To What We Fear Of Death.

This Passion, And The Death Of A Dear Friend, Would Go Near To Make A Man Look Sad.

Death Of A Friend

Let Every Eye Negotiate For Itself And Trust No Agent.

Men At Some Time Are Masters Of Their Fates. The Fault, Dear Brutus, Is Not In Our Stars, But In Ourselves, That We Are Underlings.

Crabbed Age And Youth Cannot Live Together; Youth Is Full Of Pleasure, Age Is Full Of Care; Youth Like Summer Morn, Age Like Winter Weather; Youth Like Summer Brave, Age Like Winter Bare. Youth Is Full Sport, Age's Breath Is Short; Youth Is Nimble, Age Is Lame; Youth Is Hot And Bold, Age Is Weak And Cold; Youth Is Wild, Age Is Tame. Age, I Do Abhor Thee; Youth, I Do Adore Thee.

Ambition's Debt Is Paid.

I Think The King Is But A Man As I Am: The Violet Smells To Him As It Doth To Me.

To Gild Refined Gold, To Paint The Lily... Is Wasteful And Ridiculous Excess

I Had Rather Be A Dog, And Bay The Moon, Than Such A Roman.

Even Through The Hollow Eyes Of Death I Spy Life Peering.

Vengeance Is In My Heart, Death In My Hand,blood And Revenge Are Hammering In My Head.

Let Every Man Be Master Of His Time.

With Mirth In Funeral And With Dirge In Marriage.

How Slow This Old Moon Wanes! She Lingers My Desires, Like To A Stepdame, Or A Dowager, Long Withering Out A Young Man's Revenue.

My Chastity's The Jewel Of Our House, Bequeathed Down From Many Ancestors.

...vaulted With Such Ease Into His Seat, As If An Angel Dropp'd Down From The Clouds, To Turn And Wind A Fiery Pegasus, And Witch The World With Noble Horsemanship.

Alas, How Love Can Trifle With Itself!

Alas, That Love, So Gentle In His View, Should Be So Tyrannous And Rough In Proof! *it’s Sad. Love Looks Like A Nice Thing, But It’s Actually Very Rough When You Experience It.*

Trending Author

John Ralston Saul

Richard Brinsley Sheridan

Category