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I Have Had A Most Rare Vision. I Have Had A Dream, Past The Wit Of Man To Say What Dream It Was.

-William Shakespeare

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I Have Had A

William Shakespeare

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I Have Had A Most Rare Vision. I Have Had A Dream, Past The Wit Of Man To Say What Dream It Was.

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Our Revels Now Are Ended. These Our Actors, As I Foretold You, Were All Spirits And Are Melted Into Air, Into Thin Air: And, Like The Baseless Fabric Of This Vision, The Cloud-capp'd Towers, The Gorgeous Palaces, The Solemn Temples, The Great Globe Itself, Yea, All Which It Inherit, Shall Dissolve And, Like This Insubstantial Pageant Faded, Leave Not A Rack Behind. We Are Such Stuff As Dreams Are Made On, And Our Little Life Is Rounded With A Sleep.

Blest Are Those Whose Blood And Judgment Are So Well Commingled, That They Are Not A Pipe For Fortune's Finger To Sound What Stop She Please.

O Wonderful, Wonderful, And Most Wonderful Wonderful! And Yet Again Wonderful, And After That, Out Of All Hooping.

Is She Kind As She Is Fair?

In Sweet Music Is Such Art: Killing Care And Grief Of Heart Fall Asleep, Or Hearing, Die.

Men So Noble, However Faulty, Yet Should Find Respect For What They Have Been: 'tis A Cruelty To Load A Falling Man.

Boundless Intemperance In Nature Is A Tyranny. It Hath Been Th' Untimely Emptying Of The Happy Throne And Fall Of Many Kings.

A Merry Heart Goes All The Way, - A Sad One Tires Inan Hour.

Famous Inspirational

So Shaken As We Are, So Wan With Care, Find We A Time For Frighted Peace To Pant And Breathe Short-winded Accents Of New Broils To Be Commenced In Stronds Afar Remote.

Tired With All These, For Restful Death I Cry.

Be Just, And Fear Not.

A Poor Thing, Perhaps, But My Own.

A Stirring Dwarf We Do Allowance Give Before A Sleeping Giant.

The Happiest Youth, Viewing His Progress Through, What Perils Past, What Crosses To Ensue, Would Shut The Book, And Sit Him Down And Die.

Charity Itself Fulfills The Law. And Who Can Sever Love From Charity?

Oh, God! I Have An Ill-divining Soul!

He That Will Have A Cake Out Of The Wheat Must Tarry The Grinding.

The Appurtenance Of Welcome Is Fashion And Ceremony.

To Move Wild Laughter In The Throat Of Death? It Cannot Be; It Is Impossible: Mirth Cannot Move A Soul In Agony.

O, Let Me Kiss That Hand! King Lear: Let Me Wipe It First; It Smells Of Mortality.

Praising What Is Lost Makes The Remembrance Dear

...too Much Sadness Hath Congealed Your Blood,and Melancholy Is The Nurse Of Frenzy.

He That Filches From Me My Good Name Robs Me Of That Which Enriches Him And Makes Me Poor Indeed.

Therefore It Is Most Expedient For The Wise, If Don Worm (his Conscience) Find No Impediment To The Contrary, To Be The Trumpet Of His Own Virtues, As I Am To Myself.

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

Hide Not Thy Poison With Such Sugar'd Words

Love Is Your Master, For He Masters You; And He That Is So Yoked By A Fool Methinks Should Not Be Chronicled For Wise.

This Is A Gift That I Have, Simple, Simple; A Foolish Extravagant Spirit Full Of Forms, Figures, Shapes, Objects, Ideas, Apprehensions, Motions, Revolutions; These Are Begot In The Ventricle Of Memory, Nourished In The Womb Of Pia Mater, And Delivered Upon The Mellowing Of Occasion.

A Fool's Bolt Is Soon Shot.

O Helena, Goddess, Nymph, Perfect, Divine! To What, My Love, Shall I Compare Thine Eyne? Crystal Is Muddy. O, How Ripe In Show Thy Lips, Those Kissing Cherries, Tempting Grow!

Men Should Be What They Seem.

My Purpose Is, Indeed, A Horse Of That Color.

My Heart Laments That Virtue Cannot Live Out Of The Teeth Of Emulation.

The Best Is Yet To Come.

As Good Luck Would Have It, Comes In One Mistress Page, Gives Intelligence Of Ford's Approach, And In Her Invention, And Ford's Wife's Distraction, They Conveyed Me Into A Buck-basket.

Thrust Your Head Into The Public Street, To Gaze On Christian Fools With Varnish'd Faces.

Thanks To Men Of Noble Minds, Is Honorable Meed.

Well, If Fortune Be A Woman, She's A Good Wench For This Gear.

It Provokes The Desire, But It Takes Away The Performance

I Hold The World But As The World, Gratiano!

And Yet,to Say The Truth, Reason And Love Keep Little Company Together Nowadays.

It May Do Good; Pride Hath No Other Glass To Show Itself But Pride, For Supple Knees Feed Arrogance And Are The Proud Man's Fees.

Holy, Fair, And Wise Is She; The Heaven Such Grace Did Lend Her, That She Might Admired Be.

To Unpathed Waters, Undreamed Shores.

Good Night, Good Night! Parting Is Such Sweet Sorrow, That I Shall Say Good Night Till It Be Morrow.

Say, Thou Art Mine; And Ever, My Love, As It Begins, Shall So Persevere

And By That Destiny To Perform An Act Whereof What's Past Is Prologue, What To Come In Yours And My Discharge.

Virtue's Office Never Breaks Men's Troth.

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

To Go To Bed After Midnight Is To Go To Bed Betimes

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.

I Do Desire We May Be Better Strangers.

Are You Sure/that We Are Awake? It Seems To Me/that Yet We Sleep, We Dream

Hot Blood Begets Hot Thoughts, And Hot Thoughts Beget Hot Deeds, And Hot Deeds Is Love.

Drown Thyself? Drown Cats And Blind Puppies.

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?

By Heaven, I Love Thee Better Than Myself

A Happy Ending Cannot Come In The Middle Of The Story

You Lie, In Faith; For You Are Call'd Plain Kate, And Bonny Kate And Sometimes Kate The Curst; But Kate, The Prettiest Kate In Christendom Kate Of Kate Hall, My Super-dainty Kate, For Dainties Are All Kates, And Therefore, Kate, Take This Of Me, Kate Of My Consolation; Hearing Thy Mildness Praised In Every Town, Thy Virtues Spoke Of, And Thy Beauty Sounded, Yet Not So Deeply As To Thee Belongs, Myself Am Moved To Woo Thee For My Wife.

If I Could Write The Beauty Of Your Eyes And In Fresh Numbers Number All Your Graces, The Age To Come Would Say, 'this Poet Lies; Such Heavenly Touches Ne'er Touch'd Earthly Faces.'

And Mind, With My Heart In't; And Now Farewell Till Half An Hour Hence.

Maids Want Nothing But Husbands, And When They Have Them, They Want Everything.

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's Small Choice In Rotten Apples.

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.

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

The Sense Of Death Is Most In Apprehension.

Measure For Measure

Eternity Was In Our Lips And Eyes, Bliss In Our Brows' Bent; None Our Parts So Poor But Was A Race Of Heaven.

Do Thou Amend Thy Face, And I'll Amend My Life.

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.

We Wound Our Modesty And Make Foul The Clearness Of Our Deservings, When Of Ourselves We Publish Them.

Friendship Is Constant In All Other Things, Save In The Office And Affairs Of Love.

You Have Her Father's Love, Demetrius; Let Me Have Hermia's: Do You Marry Him!

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.

Women's Weapons, Water-drops.

Commit The Oldest Sins The Newest Kind Of Ways.

Virtue That Transgresses Is But Patched With Sin; And Sin That Amends Is But Patched With Virtue.

The Iron Tongue Of Midnight Hath Told Twelve Lovers, To Bed; 'tis Almost Fairy Time. I Fear We Shall Outstep The Coming Morn As Much As We This Night Over-watch'd.

For Oaths Are Straws, Men's Faiths Are Wafer-cakes, And Hold-fast Is The Only Dog.

The Fittest Time To Corrupt A Man's Wife Is When She's Fallen Out With Her Husband.

Were't Not For Laughing, I Should Pity Him.

So Doth The Greater Glory Dim The Less: A Substitute Shines Brightly As A King Until A King Be By.

Delivers In Such Apt And Gracious Words That Aged Ears Play Truant At His Tales; And Younger Hearings Are Quite Ravished; So Sweet And Voluble Is His Discourse.

Be Not Too Tame Neither, But Let Your Own Discretion Be Your Tutor; Suit The Action To The Word, The Word To The Action.

Have You Not A Moist Eye, A Dry Hand, A Yellow Cheek, A White Beard, A Decreasing Leg, An Increasing Belly? Is Not Your Voice Broken, Your Wind Short, Your Chin Double, Your Wit Single, And Every Part About You Blasted With Antiquity?

Women Are Angels, Wooing: Things Won Are Done; Joy's Soul Lies In The Doing: That She Beloved Knows Naught, That Knows Not This-- Men Prize The Thing Ungained More Than It Is.

When We Are Born We Cry That We Are Come To This Great Stage Of Fools.

Keep Time! How Sour Sweet Music Is When Time Is Broke And No Proportion Kept! So Is It In The Music Of Men's Lives. I Wasted Time And Now Doth Time Waste Me.

Ingratitude Is Monstrous.

Inspirational Christmas

Shall I Not Take Mine Ease In Mine Inn But I Shall Have My Pocket Picked?

For To Define True Madness, What Is't But To Be Nothing Else But Mad?

There Is Nothing So Confining As The Prisons Of Our Own Perceptions.

No, No, I Am But Shadow Of Myself: You Are Deceived, My Substance Is Not Here.

I Am A Foe To Tyrants, And My Country's Friend.

And Yet, By Heaven, I Think My Love As Rare As Any She Belied With False Compare.

Lady, With Me, With Me Thy Fortune Lies.

When You Do Dance, I Wish You A Wave O' The Sea, That You Might Ever Do Nothing But That.

The Hideous God Of War.

It Is A Tale Told By An Idiot, Full Of Sound And Fury; Signifying Nothing.

There Live Not Three Good Men Unhanged In England; And One Of Them Is Fat And Grows Old.

Women Being The Weaker Vessels, Are Ever Thrust To The Walls.

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

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

Therefore The Moon, The Governess Of Floods, Pale In Her Anger Washes All The Air, That Rheumatic Diseases Do Abound; And Through This Distemperature We See The Seasons Alter: Hoary-headed Frosts Fall In The Fresh Lap Of The Crimson Rose.

My Story Starts At Sea... A Perilous Voyage To An Unknown Land... A Shipwreck... The Wild Waters Roar And Heave... The Brave Vessel Is Dashed All To Pieces, And All The Helpless Souls Within Her Drowned... All Save One... A Lady... Whose Soul Is Greater Than The Ocean... And Her Spirit Stronger Than The Sea's Embrace... Not For Her A Watery End, But A New Life Beginning On A Stranger Shore. It Will Be A Love Story... For She Will Be My Heroine For All Time. And Her Name Will Be... Viola.

Thy Friendship Makes Us Fresh.

Determine On Some Course More Than A Wild Exposure To Each Chance.

Mercy But Murders, Pardoning Those That Kill.

Whose Heart The Accustom'd Sight Of Death Makes Hard.

My Brain More Busy Than The Labouring Spider Weaves Tedious Snares To Trap Mine Enemies.

My Love Is Thaw'd; Which, Like A Waxen Image 'gainst A Fire, Bears No Impression Of The Thing It Was

Lovers Ever Run Before The Clock

Had I But Served My God With Half The Zeal I Served My King, He Would Not In Mine Age Have Left Me Naked To Mine Enemies.

I Can No Other Answer Make, But, Thanks, And Thanks.

He Reads Much; He Is A Great Observer And He Looks Quite Through The Deeds Of Men: He Loves No Plays, As Thou Dost, Antony; He Hears No Music; Seldom He Smiles, And Smiles In Such A Sort As If He Mock'd Himself And Scorn'd His Spirit That Could Be Moved To Smile At Any Thing. Such Men As He Be Never At Heart's Ease Whiles They Behold A Greater Than Themselves, And Therefore Are They Very Dangerous.

The Time Of Universal Peace Is Near. Prove This A Prosp'rous Day, The Three-nooked World Shall Bear The Olive Freely.

The Arms Are Fair, When The Intent Of Bearing Them Is Just.

The Weary Sun Hath Made A Golden Set And By The Bright Tract Of His Fiery Car Gives Token Of A Goodly Day To-morrow.

Religious Canons, Civil Laws, Are Cruel; Then What Should War Be?

I Have Very Poor And Unhappy Brains For Drinking: I Could Well Wish Courtesy Would Invent Some Other Custom Of Entertainment.

Well Could He Ride, And Often Men Would Say, "that Horse His Mettle From His Rider Takes: Proud Of Subjection, Noble By The Sway, What Rounds, What Bounds, What Course, What Stop He Makes!" And Controversy Hence A Question Takes, Whether The Horse By Him Became His Deed, Or He His Manage By The Well-doing Steed.

What Sadness Lengthens Romeo’s Hours?

Romeo And Juliet Love

Tell Me, Daughter Juliet, How Stands Your Dispositions To Be Married" It Is An Honor That I Dream Not Of

I Am A Jew. Hath Not A Jew Eyes? Hath Not A Jew Hands, Organs, Dimensions, Senses, Affections, Passions?

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

While Thou Livest Keep A Good Tongue In Thy Head.

That You Were Once Unkind Befriends Me Now, And For That Sorrow, Which I Then Did Feel, Needs Must I Under My Transgression Bow, Unless My Nerves Were Brass Or Hammered Steel.

In Thy Face I See The Map Of Honour, Truth And Loyalty.

Venus Smiles Not In A House Of Tears.

By My Soul I Swear, There Is No Power In The Tongue Of Man To Alter Me.

...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.

I Do Profess To Be No Less Than I Seem; To Serve Him Truly That Will Put Me In Trust: To Love Him That Is Honest; To Converse With Him That Is Wise, And Says Little; To Fear Judgment; To Fight When I Cannot Choose; And To Eat No Fish.

Give Me A Staff Of Honor For Mine Age, But Not A Sceptre To Control The World.

Blessings Of Your Heart, You Brew Good Ale.

As Good Luck Would Have It.

This England Never Did, Nor Never Shall, Lie At The Proud Foot Of A Conqueror.

O, Then, What Graces In My Love Do Dwell, That He Hath Turn'd A Heaven Unto Hell

Wish Chastely, And Love Dearly.

The Gaudy, Blabbing, And Remorseful Day Is Crept Into The Bosom Of The Sea.

And It Is Very Much Lamented,... That You Have No Such Mirrors As Will Turn Your Hidden Worthiness Into Your Eye That You Might See Your Shadow.

Give Every Man Thy Ear, But Few Thy Voice.

Here Was A Caesar! When Comes Such Another?

I Will Make A Star-chamber Matter Of It.

Let Us Be Diana's Foresters, Gentlemen Of The Shade, Minions Of The Moon

Or Art Thou But / A Dagger Of The Mind, A False Creation, / Proceeding From The Heat-oppressed Brain?

Every Great Drama Has Its Foreshadow.

Give Thanks For What You Are Today And Go On Fighting For What You Gone Be Tomorrow

Each Substance Of A Grief Has Twenty Shadows.

Ay, Is It Not A Language I Speak?

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

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

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

And This, Our Life, Exempt From Public Haunt, Finds Tongues In Trees, Books In The Running Brooks, Sermons In Stones, And Good In Everything.

There Is Nothing Either Good Or Bad But Thinking Makes It So.

What The Great Ones Do, The Less Will Prattle Of

I’ll Look To Like, If Looking Liking Move; But No More Deep Will I Endart Mine Eye Than Your Consent Gives Strength To Make It Fly.

Why, Thou Knowest I Am As Valiant As Hercules, But Beware Instinct. The Lion Will Not Touch The True Prince. Instinct Is A Great Matter. I Was A Coward On Instinct.

You Shall More Command With Years Than With Your Weapons.

Fairies Use Flowers For Their Charactery.

Until I Know This Sure Uncertainty, I'll Entertain The Offered Fallacy.

There Is A River In Macedon, And There Is Moreover A River In Monmouth. It Is Called Wye At Monmouth, But It Is Out Of My Prains What Is The Name Of The Other River; But 'tis All One, 'tis Alike As My Fingers Is To My Fingers, And There Is Salmons In Both.

Awake, Awake, English Nobility! Let Not Sloth Dim Your Horrors New-begot.

Yield Not Thy Neck To Fortunes Yoke, But Let Thy Dauntless Mind Still Ride In Triumph Over All Mischance.

Yet Do I Fear Thy Nature; It Is Too Full O' The Milk Of Human Kindness To Catch The Nearest Way: Thou Wouldst Be Great; Art Not Without Ambition, But Without The Illness Should Attend It: What Thou Wouldst Highly, That Wouldst Thou Holily; Wouldst Not Play False, And Yet Wouldst Wrongly Win.

Nymph, In Thy Orisons Be All My Sins Remembered!

Hamlet And Ophelia

To Saucy Doubts And Fears.

Thy Tongue Makes Welsh As Sweet As Ditties Highly Penn'd, Sung By A Fair Queen In A Summer's Bower, With Ravishing Division, To Her Lute.

Take Heed, Dear Heart, Of This Large Privilege; The Hardest Knife Ill-used Doth Lose His Edge.

True Hope Is Swift, And Flies With Swallow's Wings.

A Very Little Thief Of Occasion Will Rob You Of A Great Deal Of Patience.

I Humbly Do Beseech Of Your Pardon, For Too Much Loving You

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.

Oh What Fools We Mortals Are.

His Worst Fault Is, He's Given To Prayer; He Is Something Peevish That Way.

She Will Die If You Love Her Not, And She Will Die Ere She Might Make Her Love Known

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

Sufferance Is The Badge Of All Our Tribe.

What's Gone, And What's Past Help, Should Be Past Grief.

I Have Had A Most Rare Vision. I Have Had A Dream, Past The Wit Of Man To Say What Dream It Was.

Weep Not, Sweet Queen, For Trickling Tears Are Vain.

I Cannot Draw A Cart, Nor Eat Dried Oats; If It Be Man's Work, I'll Do't.

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.

This Day's Black Fate On More Days Doth Depend; This But Begins The Woe, Others Must End.

Thou Dost Conspire Against Thy Friend, Iago, If Thou But Think'st Him Wronged, And Mak'st His Ear A Stranger To Thy Thoughts.

No Longer Mourn For Me When I Am Dead Than You Shall Hear The Surly Sullen Bell Give Warning To The World That I Am Fled From This Vile World, With Vilest Worms To Dwell.

...an Old Man Is Twice A Child.

Who Has A Book Of All That Monarchs Do, He's More Secure To Keep It Shut Than Shown; For Vice Repeated Is Like The Wand'ring Wind, Blows Dust In Others' Eye, To Spread Itself; And Yet The End Of All Is Bought Thus Dear, The Breath Is Gone, And The Sore Eyes See Clear To Stop The Air Would Hurt Them.

Fare Thee Well, King: Sith Thus Thou Wilt Appear, Freedom Lives Hence, And Banishment Is Here.

For Thou Hast Given Me In This Beauteous Face A World Of Earthly Blessings To My Soul, If Sympathy Of Love Unite Our Thoughts.

Nothing Is So Common As The Wish To Be Remarkable.(attributed To)

If Thou Engrossest All The Griefs Are Thine, Thou Robb'st Me Of A Moiety.

Enjoy The Honey-heavy Dew Of Slumber.

Ruin Has Taught Me To Ruminate, That Time Will Come And Take My Love Away. This Thought Is As A Death, Which Cannot Choose But Weep To Have That Which It Fears To Lose.

As Flies To Wanton Boys, Are We To The Gods; They Kill Us For Their Sport.

We Must Not Make A Scarecrow Of The Law, Setting It Up To Fear The Birds Of Prey, And Let It Keep One Shape Till Custom Make It Their Perch, And Not Their Terror.

What A Terrible Era In Which Idiots Govern The Blind.

For It Falls Out That What We Have We Prize Not To The Worth Whiles We Enjoy It, But Being Lacked And Lost, Why, Then We Rack The Value, Then We Find The Virtue That Possession Would Not Show Us While It Was Ours.

I Have A Kind Soul That Would Give You Thanks. And Knows Not How To Do It But With Tears.

We Are Not Ourselves When Nature, Being Oppressed, Commands The Mind To Suffer With The Body.

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.

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