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Can You Nominate In Order Now The Degrees Of The Lie? I Will Name You The Degrees. The First, The Retort Courteous; The Second, The Quip Modest; The Third, The Reply Churlish; The Fourth, The Reproof Valiant; The Fifth; The Countercheck Quarrelsome; The Sixth, The Lie With Circumstance; The Seventh, The Lie Direct. All These You May Avoid But The Lie Direct; And You May Avoid That Too, With An If. . . . Your If Is The Only Peace-maker; Much Virtue In If.

-William Shakespeare

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Can You Nominate In

William Shakespeare

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Can You Nominate In Order Now The Degrees Of The Lie? I Will Name You The Degrees. The First, The Retort Courteous; The Second, The Quip Modest; The Third, The Reply Churlish; The Fourth, The Reproof Valiant; The Fifth; The Countercheck Quarrelsome; The Sixth, The Lie With Circumstance; The Seventh, The Lie Direct. All These You May Avoid But The Lie Direct; And You May Avoid That Too, With An If. . . . Your If Is The Only Peace-maker; Much Virtue In If.

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Virtue's Office Never Breaks Men's Troth.

Though Fortune's Malice Overthrow My State, My Mind Exceeds The Compass Of Her Wheel.

I Am Very Proud, Revengeful, Ambitious, With More Offences At My Beck Than I Have Thoughts To Put Them In, Imagination To Give Them Shape, Or Time To Act Them In.

Do You Bite Your Thumb At Us, Sir?

Romeo And Juliet Love

Suit The Action To The Word, The Word To The Action.

My Love To Thee Is Sound, Sans Crack Or Flaw.

Where Is Your Ancient Courage? You Were Used To Say Extremities Was The Trier Of Spirits; That Common Chances Common Men Could Bear; That When The Sea Was Calm All Boats Alike Showed Mastership In Floating.

I'll Be Supposed Upon A Book, His Face Is The Worst Thing About Him.

Measure For Measure

Set We Forward; Let A Roman And A British Ensign Wave Friendly Together. So Through Lud's Town March, And In The Temple Of The Great Jupiter Our Peace We'll Ratify, Seal It With Feasts. Set On There! Never Was A War Did Cease, Ere Bloody Hands Were Washed, With Such A Peace.

The Seeming Truth Which Cunning Times Put On To Entrap The Wisest.

Lives Like A Drunken Sailor On A Mast, Ready With Every Nod To Tumble Down Into The Fatal Bowels Of The Deep.

Dissembling Harlot, Thou Art False In All!

Fire That's Closest Kept Burns Most Of All.

Unhappy That I Am, I Cannot Heave My Heart Into My Mouth.

Ay, But To Die And Go We Know Not Where; To Lie In Cold Obstrution And To Rot; This Sensible Warm Motion To Become A Kneaded Clod; And The Delighted Spirit To Bathe In Fiery Floods Or To Reside In Thrilling Regions Of Thick-ribbed Ice; To Be Imprison'd In The Viewless Winds, And Blown With Restless Violence Round About The Pendant World.

Well, Honor Is The Subject Of My Story.

O Sleep! O Gentle Sleep! Nature's Soft Nurse, How Have I Frighted Thee, That Thou No More Wilt Weigh My Eyelids Down And Steep My Senses In Forgetfulness? Why Rather, Sleep, Liest Thou In Smoky Cribs, Upon Uneasy Pallets Stretching Thee, And Hush'd With Buzzing Night-flies To Thy Slumber, Than In The Perfum'd Chambers Of The Great, Under The Canopies Of Costly State, And Lull'd With Sound Of Sweetest Melody?

I Knew When Seven Justices Could Not Take Up A Quarrel, But When The Parties Were Met Themselves, One Of Them Thought But Of An If, As, 'if You Said So, Then I Said So;' And They Shook Hands And Swore Brothers. Your If Is The Only Peacemaker; Much Virtue In If.

Honour Travels In A Strait So Narrow Where One But Goes Abreast.

Verily, I Swear, It Is Better To Be Lowly Born, And Range With Humble Livers In Content, Than To Be Perked Up In A Glistering Grief, And Wear A Golden Sorrow.

If Ever Thou Shalt Love, In The Sweet Pangs Of It Remember Me; For Such As I Am All True Lovers Are, Unstaid And Skittish In All Motions Else Save In The Constant Image Of The Creature That Is Beloved.

At Christmas I No More Desire A Rose Than Wish A Snow In May's New-fangled Mirth; But Like Of Each Thing That In Season Grows.

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

Small To Greater Matters Must Give Way.

I Can See His Pride Peep Through Each Part Of Him.

Prophet May You Be! If I Be False, Or Swerve A Hair From Truth, When Time Is Old And Hath Forgot Itself, When Waterdrops Have Worn The Stones Of Troy, And Blind Oblivion Swallowed Cities Up, And Mighty States Characterless Are Grated To Dusty Nothing, Yet Let Memory, From False To False, Among False Maids In Love, Upbraid My Falsehood!

I Will Instruct My Sorrows To Be Proud; For Grief Is Proud, And Makes His Owner Stoop.

The Will Of Man Is By His Reason Sway'd.

Though Justice Be Thy Plea Consider This, That In The Course Of Justice None Of Us Should See Salvation.

Love's Not Love When It Is Mingled With Regards That Stand Aloof From Th' Entire Point.

And Send Him Many Years Of Sunshine Days!

Many Can Brook The Weather That Love Not The Wind.

O, It Is Excellent To Have A Giant's Strength; But It Is Tyrannous To Use It Like A Giant.

Great Floods Have Flown From Simple Sources.

Prepare For Mirth, For Mirth Becomes A Feast.

All Offences Come From The Heart.

Love For Thy Love , And Hand For Hand I Give.

This Music Crept By Me Upon The Waters, Allaying Both Their Fury And My Passion With Its Sweet Air: Thence I Have Follow’d It.

We Are Not The First Who With Best Meaning Have Incurred The Worst

There's Husbandry In Heaven; Their Candles Are All Out.

Important Macbeth

I Could A Tale Unfold Whose Lightest Word Would Harrow Up Thy Soul, Freeze Thy Young Blood, Make Thy Two Eyes Like Stars Start From Their Spheres, Thy Knotted And Combined Locks To Part, And Each Particular Hair To Stand On End Like Quills Upon The Fretful Porpentine. But This Eternal Blazon Must Not Be To Ears Of Flesh And Blood. List, List, O List!

As I Hope For Quiet Days, Fair Issue, And Long Life, With Such Love As 'tis Now, The Murkiest Den, The Most Opportune Place, The Strong'st Suggestion Our Worser Genius Can, Shall Never Melt Mine Honour Into Lust, To Take Away The Edge Of That Day's Celebration, When I Shall Think Or Phoebus' Steeds Are Founder'd Or Night Kept Chain'd Below.

Give It An Understanding, But No Tongue.

But As The Unthought-on Accident Is Guilty To What We Wildly Do, So We Profess Ourselves To Be The Slaves Of Chance, And Flies Of Every Wind That Blows.

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.

O Gentle Son, Upon The Heat And Flame Of Thy Distemper, Sprinkle Cool Patience.

My Pride Fell With My Fortunes.

Good Morrow, 'tis Saint Valentine's Day, All In The Morn Betime, And I A Maid At Your Window, To Be Your Valentine.

What Should We Speak Of When We Are Old As You? When We Shall Hear The Rain And Wind Beat Dark December? How, In This Our Pinching Cave, Shall We Discourse The Freezing Hours Away?

Alack, There Lies More Peril In Thine Eye Than Twenty Of Their Swords: Look Thou But Sweet, And I Am Proof Against Their Enmity.

Had I No Eyes But Ears, My Ears Would Love. That Inward Beauty And Invisible; Or Were I Deaf, Thy Outward Parts Would Move Each Part In Me That Were But Sensible: Though Neither Eyes Nor Ears, To Hear Nor See, Yet Should I Be In Love By Touching Thee. 'say, That The Sense Of Feeling Were Bereft Me, And That I Could Not See, Nor Hear, Nor Touch, And Nothing But The Very Smell Were Left Me, Yet Would My Love To Thee Be Still As Much; For From The Stillitory Of Thy Face Excelling Comes Breath Perfum'd That Breedeth Love By Smelling.

When I Was At Home I Was In A Better Place

Fie, Fie, How Frantically I Square My Talk!

Love, Whose Month Is Ever May, Spied A Blossom Passing Fair, Playing In The Wanton Air: Through The Velvet Leaves The Wind, All Unseen Can Passage Find; That The Lover, Sick To Death, Wish'd Himself The Heaven's Breath.

Who Would Be So Mocked With Glory, Or To Live But In A Dream Of Friendship, To Have His Pomp And All What State Compounds But Only Painted, Like His Varnished Friends?

Death Rock Me Asleep.

Yet This My Comfort: When Your Words Are Done, My Woes End Likewise With The Evening Sun.

And In Some Perfumes There Is More Delight Than In The Breath That From My Mistress Reeks. I Love To Hear Her Speak, Yet Well I Know That Music Hath A Far More Pleasing Sound.

Wolves And Bears, They Say, Casting Their Savagery Aside, Have Done Like Offices Of Pity.

We Must Not Stint Our Necessary Actions In The Fear To Cope Malicious Censurers, Which Ever, As Rav'nous Fishes, Do A Vessel Follow That Is New-trimmed, But Benefit No Further Than Vainly Longing.

Out, Damned Spot! Out, I Say! One: Two: Why, Then 'tis Time To Do't. Hell Is Murky!

We Cannot All Be Masters, Nor All Masters Cannot Be Truly Followed.

What's Hecuba To Him, Or He To Hecuba, That He Should Weep For Her?

Hamlet And Ophelia

The Gods Are Just, And Of Our Pleasant Vices Make Instruments To Plague Us.

The Common Curse Of Mankind, Folly And Ignorance, Be Thine In Great Revenue!

Jaques: Rosalind Is Your Love's Name? Orlando: Yes, Just. Jaques: I Do Not Like Her Name. Orlando: There Was No Thought Of Pleasing You When She Was Christened.

If Thou Art Rich, Thou Art Poor; For, Like An Ass, Whose Back With Ingots Bows, Thou Bearest Thy Heavy Riches But A Journey, And Death Unloads Thee.

Things Past Redress Are Now With Me Past Care

But When I Came, Alas, To Wive, With Hey, Ho, The Wind And The Rain, By Swaggering Could I Never Thrive, For The Rain It Raineth Every Day.

When I Got Enough Confidence, The Stage Was Gone. When I Was Sure Of Losing, I Won. When I Needed People The Most, They Left Me. When I Learnt To Dry My Tears, I Found A Shoulder To Cry On. And When I Mastered The Art Of Hating, Somebody Started Loving Me.

Constant You Are, But Yet A Woman; And For Secrecy, No Lady Closer; For I Well Believe Thou Wilt Not Utter What Thou Dost Not Know.

When Words Are Scarce They Are Seldom Spent In Vain.

Thought Provoking

Anger's My Meat. I Sup Upon Myself, And So Shall Starve With Feeding.

Who Finds The Heifer Dead And Bleeding Fresh And Sees Fast-by A Butcher With An Axe, But Will Suspect 'twas He That Made The Slaughter?

I Would With Such Perfection Govern, Sir, T'excel The Golden Age.

... And Death Unloads Thee.

Oft Have I Heard That Grief Softens The Mind And Makes It Fearful And Degenerate.

Sweets Grown Common Lose Their Dear Delight.

Methinks Sometimes I Have No More Wit Than A Christian Or An Ordinary Man Has; But I Am A Great Eater Of Beef, And I Believe That Does Harm To My Wit.

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.

See The Minutes, How They Run, How Many Make The Hour Full Complete; How Many Hours Bring About The Day; How Many Days Will Finish Up The Year; How Many Years A Mortal Man May Live.

Alas, That Love, Whose View Is Muffled Still, Should Without Eyes See Pathways To His Will!

This Thing Of Darkness I Acknowlege Mine. There Is Nothing More Confining Than The Prison We Don't Know We Are In.

Gloucester: I Do Not Know That Englishman Alive With Whom My Soul Is Any Jot At Odds, More Than The Infant That Is Born To-night: I Thank My God For My Humility.

Be Advised; Heat Not A Furnace For Your Foe So Hot That It Do Singe Yourself: We May Outrun, By Violent Swiftness, That Which We Run At, And Lose By Over-running. Know You Not, The Fire That Mounts The Liquor Til Run O'er, In Seeming To Augment It Wastes It?

T'is True: There's Magic In The Web Of It.

I Had As Lief Have Been Myself Alone.

I Have Sounded The Very Base-string Of Humility.

Courage Mounteth With Occasion.

Hath Romeo Slain Himself? Say Thou But Ay, And That Bare Vowel Ay Shall Poison More Than The Death-darting Eye Of Cockatrice. I Am Not I,if There Be Such An Ay, Or Those Eyes Shut,that Make Thee Answer Ay: If He Be Slain Say Ay,or If Not,no: Brief Sounds,determine Of My Weal Or Woe.

Yet Do I Fear Thy Nature; It Is Too Full O' The Milk Of Human Kindness.

'tis Brief, My Lord...as Woman's Love.

I See Men's Judgments Are A Parcel Of Their Fortunes; And Things Outward Do Draw The Inward Quality After Them, To Suffer All Alike.

Lechery, Lechery; Still, Wars And Lechery: Nothing Else Holds Fashion.

Virtue Itself Scapes Not Calumnious Strokes.

What Say You To A Piece Of Beef And Mustard?

All Dark And Comfortless.

'tis Pride That Pulls The Country Down.

Thou Hast The Most Unsavoury Similes.

Speak The Speech, I Pray You, As I Pronounc'd It To You, Trippingly On The Tongue.

Thou Seest I Have More Flesh Than Another Man, And Therefore More Frailty.

Say As You Think And Speak It From Your Souls.

Be Not Afraid Of Greatness.

Ready To Go But Never To Return.

The Amity That Wisdom Knits Not, Folly May Easily Untie.

They Were Devils Incarnate.

These Violent Delights Have Violent Ends And In Their Triump Die, Like Fire And Powder Which, As They Kiss, Consume

Romeo And Juliet Love

How Many Ages Hence Shall This Our Lofty Scene Be Acted Over In States Unborn And Accents Yet Unknown!

Which Means She To Deceive, Father Or Mother?

There Is A Willow Grows Aslant A Brook, That Shows His Hoar Leaves In The Glassy Stream; There With Fantastic Garlands Did She Come Of Crow-flowers, Nettles, Daisies, And Long Purples That Liberal Shepherds Give A Grosser Name, But Our Cold Maids Do Dead Men's Fingers Call Them: There, On The Pendent Boughs Her Coronet Weeds Clambering To Hang, An Envious Sliver Broke; When Down Her Weedy Trophies And Herself Fell In The Weeping Brook.

For The Poor Wren (the Most Diminutive Of Birds) Will Fight, Her Young Ones In Her Nest, Against The Owl.

Glendower: I Can Call The Spirits From The Vasty Deep. Hotspur: Why, So Can I, Or So Can Any Man; But Will They Come, When You Do Call For Them?

Not Stepping Over The Bounds Of Modesty.

Do Not Spread The Compost On The Weeds.

I Am Wealthy In My Friends.

O, Thou Hast Damnable Iteration; And Art, Indeed, Able To Corrupt A Saint.

Alas, Sir, How Fell You Besides Your Five Wits?" Malvolio: "fool, There Was Never A Man So Notoriously Abused. I Am As Well In My Wits, Fool, As Thou Art." Feste: "but As Well? Then You Are Mad Indeed, If You Be No Better In You Wits Than A Fool.

She Never Told Her Love, But Let Concealment, Like A Worm 'i Th' Bud, Feed On Her Damask Cheek. She Pinned In Thought; And, With A Green And Yellow Melancholy, She Sat Like Patience On A Monument, Smiling At Grief. Was Not This Love Indeed? We Men May Say More, Swear More; But Indeed Our Shows Are More Than Will; For We Still Prove Much In Our Vows But Little In Our Love.

If The Skin Were Parchment And The Blows You Gave Were Ink, Your Own Handwriting Would Tell You What I Think.

We Were Not Born To Sue, But To Command.

Men Of Few Words Are The Best Men." (3.2.41)

Written Language

Here I And Sorrows Sit; Here Is My Throne, Bid Kings Come Bow To It.

O Gentlemen, The Time Of Life Is Short! To Spend That Shortness Basely Were Too Long, If Life Did Ride Upon A Dial's Point, Still Ending At The Arrival Of An Hour.

A Fusty Nut With No Kernel.

Fie, Thou Dishonest Satan! I Call Thee By The Most Modest Terms; For I Am One Of Those Gentle Ones That Will Use The Devil Himself With Courtesy: Sayest Thou That House Is Dark?

When I Said I Would Die A Bachelor, I Did Not Think I Should Live Till I Were Married.

Give Thy Thoughts No Tongue.

Tear-falling Pity Dwells Not In This Eye.

His Heart As Far From Fraud As Heaven From Earth.

To Hold, As 't Were, The Mirror Up To Nature.

Now All The Youth Of England Are On Fire, And Silken Dalliance In The Wardrobe Lies; Now Thrive The Armorers, And Honor's Thought Reigns Solely In The Breast Of Every Man.

A Very Ancient And Fish-like Smell.

Here Is A Rural Fellow That Will Not Be Denied Your Highness' Presence: He Brings You Figs.

Heat Not A Furnace For Your Foe So Hot That It Do Singe Yourself.

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

And Too Soon Marred Are Those So Early Made.

Sometimes, Less Is More.

Can One Desire Too Much Of A Good Thing?

[thine] Face Is Not Worth Sunburning.

Make Less Thy Body Hence, And More Thy Grace. Leave Gormandizing.

I Do Desire We May Be Better Strangers.

One Pain Is Lessened By Another's Anguish.

Women May Fall When There's No Strength In Men.

Two Lovely Berries Moulded On One Stem; So, With Two Seeming Bodies, But One Heart.

O, She Misused Me Past The Endurance Of A Block.

Comfort's In Heaven, And We Are On The Earth

The Breach Of Custom Is Breach Of All.

When Most I Wink, Then Do My Eyes Best See

Assume A Virtue If You Have It Not.

Making Night Hideous.

I See That The Fashion Wears Out More Apparel Than The Man.

Things Done Well And With A Care, Exempt Themselves From Fear.

I Could Be Well Content To Entertain The Lag-end Of My Life With Quiet Hours.

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

What Must Be Shall Be.

Fair Is Foul, And Foul Is Fair, Hover Through Fog And Filthy Air.

Never, Never, Never, Never, Never! Pray You, Undo This Button.

Age Cannot Wither Her, Nor Custom Stale Her Infinite Variety.

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

I And My Bosom Must Debate Awhile, And Then I Would No Other Company.

The Native Hue Of Resolution Is Sicklied O'er With The Pale Cast Of Thought; And Enterprises Of Great Pitch And Moment, With This Regard, Their Currents Turn Awry, And Lose The Name Of Action.

Hamlet And Ophelia

Justice Always Whirls In Equal Measure.

Though It Make The Unskillful Laugh, Cannot But Make The Judicious Grieve.

Indeed, Sir, He That Sleeps Feels Not The Toothache; But A Man That Were To Sleep Your Sleep, And A Hangman To Help Him To Bed, I Think He Would Change Places With His Officer; For Look You, Sir, You Know Not Which Way You Shall Go.

Wine Loved I Deeply, Dice Dearly.

The Best Is Yet To Come.

Tis Gold Which Buys Admittance--oft It Doth--yea, And Makes Diana's Rangers False Themselves, Yield Up This Deer To Th' Stand O' Th' Stealer: And 'tis Gold Which Makes The True Man Kill'd And Saves The Thief, Nay, Sometimes Hangs Both Thief And True Man.

Conscience Is A Thousand Swords.

The Thane Of Cawdor Lives, A Prosperous Gentleman; And To Be King Stands Not Within The Prospect Of Belief, No More Than To Be Cawdor.

Who Is Here So Vile That Will Not Love His Country?

I Have No Way And Therefore Want No Eyes I Stumbled When I Saw. Full Oft 'tis Seen Our Means Secure Us, And Our Mere Defects Prove Our Commodities.

O Villains, Vipers, Dogs, Easily Won To Fawn On Any Man!

In Jest, There Is Truth.

He Makes A July's Day Short As December.

My Prophecy Is But Half His Journey Yet, For Yonder Walls, That Pertly Front Your Town, Yon Towers, Whose Wanton Tops Do Buss The Clouds, Must Kiss Their Own Feet.

This Is The Very Ecstasy Of Love.

Important Hamlet

How Quickly Nature Falls Into Revolt When Gold Becomes Her Object! For This The Foolish Over-careful Fathers Have Broke Their Sleep With Thoughts, Their Brains With Care, Their Bones With Industry.

What Is Honour? A Word. What Is In That Word Honour? What Is That Honour? Air. A Trim Reckoning! Who Hath It? He That Died O' Wednesday. Doth He Feel It? No. Doth He Hear It? No.

A Wretched Soul, Bruised With Adversity, We Bid Be Quiet When We Hear It Cry; But Were We Burdened With Light Weight Of Pain, As Much Or More We Should Ourselves Complain.

Beauty Too Rich For Use, For Earth Too Dear.

Romeo And Juliet Love

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

It Is To Be All Made Of Fantasy, All Made Of Passion And All Made Of Wishes, All Adoration, Duty, And Observance, All Humbleness, All Patience And Impatience, All Purity, All Trial, All Observance

One Good Deed Dying Tongueless Slaughters A Thousand Waiting Upon That. Our Praises Are Our Wages.

There's A Divinity That Shapes Our Ends, Rough-hew Them How We Will.

Denmark In Hamlet

Hamlet And Ophelia

What Is A Man, If His Chief Good And Market Of His Time Be But To Sleep And Feed? A Beast, No More. Sure He That Made Us With Such Large Discourse, Looking Before And After, Gave Us Not That Capability And God-like Reason To Fust In Us Unused.

Before And After

Those That Do Teach Young Babes Do It With Gentle Means And Easy Tasks.

Fear No More The Heat O' Th' Sun Nor The Furious Winters' Rages; Thou Thy Worldly Task Hast Done, Home Art Gone, And Ta'en Thy Wages. Golden Lads And Girls All Must, As Chimney-sweepers, Come To Dust.

No, Time, Thou Shalt Not Boast That I Do Change.

Time Is The Nurse And Breeder Of All Good.

This Royal Throne Of Kings, This Scepter'd Isle, This Earth Of Majesty, This Seat Of Mars, This Other Eden, Demi-paradise.

Precious Stones

Paradise On Earth

So Weary With Disasters, Tugg'd With Fortune, That I Would Set My Life On Any Chance, To Mend, Or Be Rid On't.

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.

I Came, Saw, And Overcame.

One Woman Is Fair, Yet I Am Well; Another Is Wise, Yet I Am Well; Another Virtuous, Yet I Am Well; But Till All Graces Be In One Woman, One Woman Shall Not Come In My Grace.

There Is No Terror, Cassius, In Your Threats, For I Am Armed So Strong In Honesty That They Pass By Me As The Idle Wind

Ships Are But Boards, Sailors But Men.

Kiss Me, Kate, We Shall Be Married O'sunday

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