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Antonio: Will You Stay No Longer? Nor Will You Not That I Go With You? Sebastian: By Your Patience, No. My Stars Shine Darkly Over Me; The Malignancy Of My Fate Might, Perhaps, Distemper Yours; Therefore I Shall Crave Of You Your Leave That I May Bear My Evils Alone. It Were A Bad Recompense For Your Love To Lay Any Of Them On You.

-William Shakespeare

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Antonio: Will You Stay

William Shakespeare

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Antonio: Will You Stay No Longer? Nor Will You Not That I Go With You? Sebastian: By Your Patience, No. My Stars Shine Darkly Over Me; The Malignancy Of My Fate Might, Perhaps, Distemper Yours; Therefore I Shall Crave Of You Your Leave That I May Bear My Evils Alone. It Were A Bad Recompense For Your Love To Lay Any Of Them On You.

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Put Money In Thy Purse.

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As Full Of Spirit As The Month Of May, And As Gorgeous As The Sun In Midsummer.

Tis A Happy Thing To Be The Father Unto Many Sons.

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A High Hope For A Low Heaven: God Grant Us Patience!

Honest Plain Words Best Pierce The Ear Of Grief.

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Measure For Measure

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We Were Not Born To Sue, But To Command.

Men's Vows Are Women's Traitors

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With Love's Light Wings Did I O'er-perch These Walls, For Stony Limits Cannot Hold Love Out

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In Springtime, The Only Pretty Ring Time Birds Sing, Hey Ding A-ding, A-ding Sweet Lovers Love The Spring—

He Is Not Worthy Of The Honey-comb, That Shuns The Hives Because The Bees Have Stings.

The Bird That Hath Been Limed In A Bush, With Trembling Wings Misdoubteth Every Bush.

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I Had Rather Hear My Dog Bark At A Crow, Than A Man Swear He Loves Me.

Vanity Keeps Persons In Favor With Themselves Who Are Out Of Favor With All Others.

Such Men As He Be Never At Heart's Ease Whiles They Behold A Greater Than Themselves, And Therefore Are They Very Dangerous.

He Makes A July's Day Short As December.

So Fair And Foul A Day I Had Not Seen.

I'll Have No Husband, If You Be Not He.

O Tiger's Heart Wrapped In A Woman's Hide!

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Me, Poor Man, My Library Was Dukedom Large Enough.

Too Much To Know Is To Know Nought But Fame; And Every Godfather Can Give A Name.

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Too Much Of Water Hast Thou, Poor Ophelia, And Therefore I Forbid My Tears.

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An Overflow Of Good Converts To Bad.

Death Is A Fearful Thing.

My Heart Suspects More Than Mine Eye Can See.

Nay, I Am The Very Pink Of Courtesy.

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Some Are Born Great, Some Achieve Greatness, And Some Have Greatness Thrust Upon Them.

Ignorance Is The Curse Of God; Knowledge Is The Wing Wherewith We Fly To Heaven.

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.

Let Not Our Babbling Dreams Affright Our Souls; Conscience Is But A Work That Cowards Use, Devised At First To Keep The Strong In Awe: Our Strong Arms Be Our Conscience, Swords Our Law!

Thou Shalt Not Stir One Foot To Seek A Foe.

As Merry As The Day Is Long.

What's More To Do, Which Would Be Planted Newly With The Time, As Calling Home Our Exiled Friends Abroad That Fled The Snares Of Watchful Tyranny, Producing Forth The Cruel Ministers Of This Dead Butcher And His Fiend-like Queen, Who, As 'tis Thought, By Self And Violent Hands Took Off Her Life; This, And What Needful Else That Calls Upon Us, By The Grace Of Grace We Will Perform In Measure, Time, And Place.

There's Small Choice In Rotten Apples.

Every Why Hath A Wherefore.

Cause And Effect

So Full Of Shapes Is Fancy

...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.

No Metal Can--no, Not The Hangman's Axe--bear Half The Keenness Of Thy Sharp Envy.

A Man Cannot Make Him Laugh - But That's No Marvel; He Drinks No Wine.

Ay, Much Is The Force Of Heaven-bred Poesy.

Take You Me For A Sponge?

The Good I Stand On Is My Truth And Honesty.

Truth And Honesty

I Have Not Slept One Wink.

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

Important Hamlet

Ne'er Ask Me What Raiment I'll Wear, For I Have No More Doublets Than Backs, No More Stockings Than Legs, Nor No More Shoes Than Feet--nay, Sometime More Feet Than Shoes, Or Such Shoes As My Toes Look Through The Overleather.

What Is More Miserable Than Discontent?

I Cannot Speak Your England.

When The Sun Shines Let Foolish Gnats Make Sport, But Creep In Crannies When He Hides His Beams.

The Why Is Plain As Way To Parish Church: He That A Fool Doth Very Wisely Hit Doth Very Foolishly, Although He Smart, Not To Seem Senseless Of The Bob; If Not, The Wise Man's Folly Is Anatomiz'd Even By The Squand'ring Glances Of The Fool.

Kindness Nobler Ever Than Revenge.

You Peasant Swain! You Whoreson Malt-horse Drudge!

The Past Is Prologue.

Bait The Hook Well. This Fish Will Bite.

I Have More Care To Stay Than Will To Go.

Crowns In My Purse I Have, And Goods At Home, And So Am Come Abroad To See The World.

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.

Men Are April When They Woo, December When They Wed.

Fight Valiantly To-day; And Yet I Do Thee Wrong To Mind Thee Of It, For Thou Art Framed Of The Firm Truth Of Valor.

I Pray You Bear Me Henceforth From The Noise And Rumour Of The Field, Where I May Think The Remnant Of My Thoughts In Peace, And Part Of This Body And My Soul With Contemplation And Devout Desires.

I Loved Ophelia. Forty Thousand Brothers Could Not, With All Their Quantity Of Love, Make Up My Sum.

Hamlet And Ophelia

A Very Little Little Let Us Do And All Is Done.

Is He On His Horse? O Happy Horse, To Bear The Weight Of Antony!

Men's Eyes Were Made To Look, And Let Them Gaze. I Will Not Budge For No Man's Pleasure.

Time Hath, My Lord, A Wallet At His Back Wherein He Puts Alms For Oblivion, A Great-sized Monster Of Ingratitudes: Those Scraps Are Good Deeds Past, Which Are Devour'd As Fast As They Are Made, Forgot As Soon As Done.

Bondage Is Hoarse, And May Not Speak Aloud.

A Very Ancient And Fish-like Smell.

Scorn, At First, Makes After-love The More.

Presume Not That I Am The Thing I Was.

On The Bat’s Back I Do Fly After Summer Merrily.

I Will Chide No Breather In The World But Myself, Against Whom I Know Most Faults.

Give Thy Thoughts No Tongue, Nor Any Unproportioned Thought His Act. Be Thou Familiar But By No Means Vulgar.

You Blocks, You Stones, You Worse Than Senseless Things!

Grief Makes One Hour Ten.

Losing A Loved One

I'll Go Find A Shadow, And Sigh Till He Come" (phebe)

Affliction May One Day Smile Again; And Till Then, Sit Thee Down, Sorrow!.

Home-keeping Youth Have Ever Homely Wits.

Wert Thou As Far As That Vast Shore Washed With The Farthest Sea, I Would Adventure For Such Merchandise.

A Man Can Die But Once.

There Is A History In All Men's Lives, Figuring The Nature Of The Times Deceased, The Which Observed, A Man May Prophesy, With A Near Aim, Of The Main Chance Of Things As Yet Not Come To Life, Which In Their Seeds And Weak Beginnings Lie Intreasured.

I Pray You, In Your Letters, When You Shall These Unlucky Deeds Relate, Speak Of Me As I Am; Nothing Extenuate, Nor Set Down Aught In Malice. Then Must You Speak Of One That Loved Not Wisely But Too Well; Of One Not Easily Jealous, But Being Wrought, Perplexed In The Extreme. . .

Celebrity Is Never More Admired Than By The Negligent.

Then Hate Me When Thou Wilt, If Ever, Now.

Dream In Light Years, Challenge Miles, Walk Step By Step

O, Let My Books Be Then The Eloquence And Dumb Presages Of My Speaking Breast.

Let None Presume To Wear An Undeserved Dignity. O That Estates, Degrees, And Offices Were Not Derived Corruptly, And That Clear Honour Were Purchased By The Merit Of The Wearer!

Never Anger Made Good Guard For Itself.

O God Of Battles! Steel My Soldiers’ Hearts. Possess Them Not With Fear.

The Private Wound Is Deepest. O Time Most Accurst, 'mongst All Foes That A Friend Should Be The Worst!

We Must Take The Current When It Serves, Or Lose Our Ventures.

The Color Of The King Doth Come And Go, Between His Purpose And His Conscience, Like Heralds 'twixt Two Dreadful Battles Set: His Passion Is So Ripe, It Needs Must Break.

Cowards Die Many Times Before Their Deaths; The Valiant Never Taste Of Death But Once. Of All The Wonders That I Yet Have Heard, It Seems To Me Most Strange That Men Should Fear; Seeing That Death, A Necessary End, Will Come When It Will Come.

Would I Were In An Alehouse In London.

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.

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!

'tis Thought The King Is Dead; We Will Not Stay. The Bay Trees In Our Country Are All Wither'd.

If There Be No Great Love In The Beginning, Yet Heaven May Decrease It Upon Better Acquaintance, When We Are Married And Have More Occasion To Know One Another: I Hope, Upon Familiarity Will Grow More Contempt.

The Force Of His Own Merit Makes His Way-a Gift That Heaven Gives For Him.

Tis The Eye Of Childhood That Fears A Painted Devil.

And Oftentimes Excusing Of A Fault Doth Make The Fault The Worse By The Excuse, As Patches Set Upon A Little Breach, Discredit More In Hiding Of The Fault Than Did The Fault Before It Was So Patch'd.

Praise Us As We Are Tasted, Allow Us As We Prove.

I Praise God For You, Sir: Your Reasons At Dinner Have Been Sharp And Sententious; Pleasant Without Scurrility, Witty Without Affectation, Audacious Without Impudency, Learned Without Opinion, And Strange With-out Heresy.

And His Unkindness May Defeat My Life, But Never Taint My Love.

When He Is Best, He Is A Little Worse Than A Man; And When He Is Worst, He Is Little Better Than A Beast.

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

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