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I'll Drown More Sailors Than The Mermaid Shall; I'll Slay More Gazers Than The Basalisks; I'll Play The Orator As Well As Nestor, Decieve More Slily That Ulysses Could, And Like A Sinon, Take Another Troy. I Can Add Colors To The Chameleon, Change Shapes With Proteus For Advantages And Set The Murderous Machiavel To School. Can I Do This, And Cannot Get A Crown? Tut! Were It Further Off, I'll Pluck It Down.

-William Shakespeare

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I'll Drown More Sailors

William Shakespeare

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I'll Drown More Sailors Than The Mermaid Shall; I'll Slay More Gazers Than The Basalisks; I'll Play The Orator As Well As Nestor, Decieve More Slily That Ulysses Could, And Like A Sinon, Take Another Troy. I Can Add Colors To The Chameleon, Change Shapes With Proteus For Advantages And Set The Murderous Machiavel To School. Can I Do This, And Cannot Get A Crown? Tut! Were It Further Off, I'll Pluck It Down.

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What A Piece Of Work Is A Man, How Noble In Reason, How Infinite In Faculties, In Form And Moving How Express And Admirable, In Action How Like An Angel, In Apprehension How Like A God.

Venus Smiles Not In A House Of Tears.

What, No More Ceremony? See, My Women! Against The Blown Rose May They Stop Their Nose That Kneel'd Unto The Buds.

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

I Once Did Hold It, As Our Statists Do, A Baseness To Write Fair, And Labour'd Much How To Forget That Learning; But, Sir, Now It Did Me Yeoman's Service.

My Friends Were Poor, But Honest, So's My Love.

Many A True Word Hath Been Spoken In Jest.

The Moon, Like To A Silver Bow New Bent In Heaven.

In Peace There's Nothing So Becomes A Man As Modest Stillness And Humility: But When The Blast Of War Blows In Our Ears, Then Imitate The Action Of The Tiger; Stiffen The Sinews, Summon Up The Blood, Disguise Fair Nature With Hard-favour'd Rage; Then Lend The Eye A Terrible Aspect; . . . . Now Set The Teeth And Stretch The Nostril Wide, Hold Hard The Breath And Bend Up Every Spirit To His Full Height. On, On, You Noblest English.

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

Death Lies On Her Like An Untimely Frost.

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.

The Fool Multitude, That Choose By Show, Not Learning More Than The Fond Eye Doth Teach.

What Is Past Is Prologue.

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

When Clouds Are Seen Wise Men Put On Their Cloaks; When Great Leaves Fall Then Winter Is At Hand.

Youth To Itself Rebels, Though None Else Near.

There's Beggary In Love That Can Be Reckoned

But Flies An Eagle Flight, Bold And Forth On, Leaving No Tract Behind.

They Do Not Abuse The King That Flatter Him. For Flattery Is The Bellows Blows Up Sin; The Thing The Which Is Flattered, But A Spark To Which That Blast Gives Heat And Stronger Glowing.

When Holy And Devout Religious Men Are At Their Beads, 'tis Hard To Draw Them Thence; So Sweet Is Zealous Contemplation.

Yet But Three Come One More. Two Of Both Kinds Make Up Four. Ere She Comes Curst And Sad. Cupid Is A Knavish Lad. Thus To Make Poor Females Mad.

And Writers Say, As The Most Forward Bud Is Eaten By The Canker Ere It Blow, Even So By Love The Young And Tender Wit Is Turn'd To Folly, Blasting In The Bud, Losing His Verdure Even In The Prime, And All The Fair Effects Of Future Hopes.

How Wayward Is This Foolish Love That, Like A Testy Babe, Will Scratch The Nurse And Presently, All Humble, Kiss The Rod.

To Offend And Judge Are Distinct Offices, And Of Opposed Natures.

What, All So Soon Asleep! I Wish Mine Eyes Would, With Themselves, Shut Up My Thoughts.

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

Alas, How Love Can Trifle With Itself!

In Nature's Infinite Book Of Secrecy A Little I Can Read.

We Are The Lords Of All Eternity

The Pow'r That I Have On You Is To Spare You; The Malice Towards You To Forgive You.

So All My Best Is Dressing Old Words New.

Beshrew The Heart That Makes My Heart To Groan.

To Mingle Friendship Far Is Mingling Bloods.

Twas A Clever Quibble. Here, A Garment For It.

World, World, O World! But That Thy Strange Mutations Make Us Hate Thee/ Life Would Not Yield To Age.

Love Is Blind, It Stops Lovers Seeing The Silly Things They Do.

For God's Sake, Let Us Sit Upon The Ground And Tell Sad Stories Of The Death Of Kings.

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.

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.

That Thou Art Blamed Shall Not Be Thy Defect, For Slander's Mark Was Ever Yet The Fair; The Ornament Of Beauty Is Suspect, A Crow That Flies In Heaven's Sweetest Air.

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.

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.

Farewell, Good Salisbury, And Good Luck Go With Thee!

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

Take You Me For A Sponge?

Thus Is His Cheek The Map Of Days Outworn.

O Momentary Grace Of Mortal Men, Which We More Hunt For Than The Grace Of God!

Do Not Plunge Thyself Too Far In Anger.

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

Myself Will Straight Aboard, And To The State This Heavy Act With Heavy Heart Relate.

There's Not A Shirt And A Half In All My Company, And The Half Shirt Is Two Napkins Tacked Together And Thrown Over The Shoulders Like A Herald's Coat Without Sleeves.

Ask God For Temp'rance. That's Th' Appliance Only Which Your Disease Requires.

Love All. Trust A Few. Do Wrong To None. This Above All: To Thine Own Self Be True. No Legacy Is So Rich As Honesty. Brevity Is The Soul Of Wit

Poor Wretches That Depend On Greatness' Favor, Dream As I Have Done; Wake, And Find Nothing.

He Is Winding The Watch Of His Wit; By And By It Will Strike.

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.

Before The Curing Of A Strong Disease, Even In The Instant Of Repair And Health, The Fit Is Strongest. Evils That Take Leave, On Their Departure Most Of All Show Evil.

If You Be King, Why Should Not I Succeed?

And Caesar Shall Go Forth.

Hopeless And Helpless Doth Egeon Wend, But To Procrastinate His Liveless End.

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!

So Are You To My Thoughts As Food To Life, Or As Sweet Seasoned Showers Are To The Ground.

To Fear The Foe, Since Fear Oppresseth Strength, Gives In Your Weakness Strength Unto Your Foe.

The Play's The Thing, Wherein I'll Catch The Conscience Of The King.

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

Make Not Your Thoughts Your Prisons.

I Have Touched The Highest Point Of All My Greatness.

Nay Then, Let The Devil Wear Black, For I'll Have A Suit Of Sables.

Give It An Understanding, But No Tongue.

They That Touch Pitch Will Be Defiled.

O Heresy In Fair, Fit For These Days, A Giving Hand, Though Foul, Shall Have Fair Praise.

Report Me And My Cause Aright.

That Time Of Year Thou Mayst In Me Behold When Yellow Leaves, Or None, Or Few, Do Hang Upon Those Boughs Which Shake Against The Cold, Bare Ruin'd Choirs, Where Late The Sweet Birds Sang. In Me Thou Seest The Twilight Of Such Day, As After Sunset Fadeth In The West, Which By-and-by Black Night Doth Take Away.

Then Come Kiss Me, Sweet And Twenty.

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

Through Tattered Clothes Great Vices Do Appear; Robes And Furred Gowns Hide All. Plate Sin With Gold And The Strong Lance Of Justice Hurtless Breaks. Arm It In Rags, A Pigmy's Straw Does Pierce It.

The Instruments Of Darkness Tell Us Truths.

This Thou Perceivest, Which Makes Thy Love More Strong, To Love That Well Which Thou Must Leave Ere Long

And, Looking On It With Lack-lustre Eye, Says Very Wisely, "it Is Ten O'clock: Thus We May See," Quoth He, "how The World Wags."

Blood Will Have Blood.

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

Speak Comfortable Words.

Gold Were As Good As Twenty Orators.

Hear Me Profess Sincerely: Had I A Dozen Sons, Each In My Love Alike, And None Less Dear Than Thine And My Good Marcius, I Had Rather Have Eleven Die Nobly For Their Country Than One Voluptuously Surfeit Out Of Action.

Therefore Another Prologue Must Tell He Is Not A Lion

Give Sorrow Words; The Grief That Does Not Speak Knits Up The O-er Wrought Heart And Bids It Break.

Too Early Seen Unknown, And Known Too Late!

We See Which Way The Stream Of Time Doth Run.

Men Should Be What They Seem.

Her Virtues, Graced With External Gifts, Do Breed Love's Settled Passions In My Heart; And Like As Rigour Of Tempestuous Gusts Provokes The Mightiest Hulk Against The Tide, So Am I Driven By Breath Of Her Renown Either To Suffer Shipwreck Or Arrive Where I May Have Fruition Of Her Love.

No Particular Scandal One Can Touch But It Confounds The Breather.

Beshrew That Heart That Makes My Heart To Groan For That Deep Wound It Gives My Friend And Me; Is't Not Enough To Torture Me Alone, But Slave To Slavery My Sweet'st Friend Must Be?

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.

He That Is Proud Eats Up Himself: Pride Is His Own Glass, His Own Trumpet, His Own Chronicle.

You Are An Alchemist; Make Gold Of That.

Glory Grows Guilty Of Detested Crimes.

He That Commends Me To Mine Own Content Commends Me To The Thing I Cannot Get. I To The World Am Like A Drop Of Water That In The Ocean Seeks Another Drop, Who, Falling There To Find His Fellow Forth, Unseen, Inquisitive, Confounds Himself: So I, To Find A Mother And A Brother, In Quest Of Them, Unhappy, Lose Myself.

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

This Is The Excellent Foppery Of The World, That, When We Are Sick In Fortune,--often The Surfeit Of Our Own Behavior,--we Make Guilty Of Our Disasters The Sun, The Moon, And The Stars: As If We Were Villains By Necessity; Fools By Heavenly Compulsion; Knaves, Thieves, And Treachers, By Spherical Predominance; Drunkards, Liars, And Adulterers, By An Enforced Obedience Of Planetary Influence; And All That We Are Evil In, By A Divine Thrusting On: An Admirable Evasion Of Whoremaster Man, To Lay His Goatish Disposition To The Charge Of A Star.

Foul Whisperings Are Abroad

Nothing 'gainst Times Scythe Can Make Defence.

Thou Art As Tyrannous, So As Thou Art, As Those Whose Beauties Proudly Make Them Cruel; For Well Thou Know'st To My Dear Doting Heart Thou Art The Fairest And Most Precious Jewel.

Like A Dull Actor Now, I Have Forgot My Part, And I Am Out, Even To A Full Disgrace.

Care I For The Limb, The Thews, The Stature, Bulk, And Big Assemblance Of A Man! Give Me The Spirit.

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

A Sympathy In Choice.

I Have Seen Better Faces In My Time Than Stands On Any Shoulder That I See Before Me At This Instant.

Tell Me Where Is Fancy Bred, Or In The Heart, Or In The Head?

Tis Not A Year Or Two Shows Us A Man: They Are All But Stomachs, And We All But Food; They Eat Us Hungerly, And When They Are Full They Belch Us.

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

My Falcon Now Is Sharp And Passing Empty, And Till She Stoop She Must Not Be Full-gorged, For Then She Never Looks Upon Her Lure.

Taming Of The Shrew

I Know A Place Where The Wild Thyme Blows, Where Oxlips And The Nodding Violet Grows.

Uneasy Lies The Head That Wears A Crown.

You Lack The Season Of All Natures, Sleep.

Women's Weapons, Water-drops.

This Thing Of Darkness I Acknowledge Mine.

If It Will Feed Nothing Else, It Will Feed My Revenge.

Defer No Time, Delays Have Dangerous Ends.

Procrastination

Your Face, My Thane, Is As A Book Where Men May Read Strange Matters. To Beguile The Time, Look Like The Time; Bear Welcome In Your Eye, Your Hand, Your Tongue: Look Like The Innocent Flower, But Be The Serpent Under't.

I Can Hardly Forbear Hurling Things At Him.

If To Do Were As Easy As To Know What Were Good To Do, Chapels Had Been Churches, And Poor Men's Cottage Princes' Palaces.

We Are Oft To Blame In This, - 'tis Too Much Proved, - That With Devotion's Visage, And Pios Action We Do Sugar O'er The Devil Himself.

A Politician... One That Would Circumvent God.

Now He'll Outstare The Lightning. To Be Furious Is To Be Frightened Out Of Fear.

The Seasons Change Their Manners, As The Year Had Found Some Months Asleep And Leapt Them Over.

Virtue Is Bold, And Goodness Never Fearful.

Therefore, To Be Possess'd With Double Pomp, To Guard A Title That Was Rich Before, To Gild Refined Gold, To Paint The Lily, To Throw A Perfume On The Violet, To Smooth The Ice, Or Add Another Hue Unto The Rainbow, Or With Taper-light To Seek The Beauteous Eye Of Heaven To Garnish, Is Wasteful And Ridiculous Excess.

I May Neither Choose Who I Would, Nor Refuse Who I Dislike; So Is The Will Of A Living Daughter Curbed By The Will Of A Dead Father.

Let's Talk Of Graves, Of Worms, And Epitaphs; Make Dust Our Paper, And With Rainy Eyes Write Sorrow On The Bosom Of The Earth.... [w]hat Can We Bequeath, Save Our Deposed Bodies To The Ground?... [n]othing Can We Call Our Own, But Death... [l]et Us Sit Upon The Ground, And Tell Sad Stories Of The Death Of Kings: - How Some Have Been Depos'd, Some Slain In War; Some Haunted By The Ghosts They Have Depos'd.

Cleopatra: If It Be Love Indeed, Tell Me How Much. Antony: There's Beggary In The Love That Can Be Reckoned. Cleopatra: I'll Set A Bourne How Far To Be Belov'd. Antony: Then Must Thou Needs Find Out New Heaven, New Earth.

How Every Fool Can Play Upon The Word!

But To My Mind, Though I Am Native Here, And To The Manner Born, It Is A Custom, More Honored In The Breach Than The Observance.

Denmark In Hamlet

Hamlet And Ophelia

Farewell, Fair Cruelty.

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.

O Me, You Juggler, You Canker-blossom, You Thief Of Love!

Every True Man's Apparel Fits Your Thief.

This Is The Very Ecstasy Of Love, Whose Violent Property Ordoes Itself And Leads The Will To Desperate Undertakings.

Bad Is The Trade That Must Play Fool To Sorrow, Ang'ring Itself And Others.

I Fill Up A Place, Which May Be Better... When I Have Made It Empty.

So May The Outward Shows Be Least Themselves: The World Is Still Deceived With Ornament. In Law, What Plea So Tainted And Corrupt, But, Being Seasoned With A Gracious Voice, Obscures The Show Of Evil? In Religion, What Damned Error, But Some Sober Brow Will Bless It And Approve It With A Text, Hiding The Grossness With Fair Ornament? There Is No Vice So Simple But Assumes Some Mark Of Virtue On His Outward Parts.

Experience Teacheth Us That Resolution 's A Sole Help At Need: And This, My Lord, Our Honour Teacheth Us, That We Be Bold In Every Enterprise: Then Since There Is No Way, But Fight Or Die, Be Resolute, My Lord, For Victory.

Well, Heaven Forgive Him! And Forgive Us All! Some Rise By Sin, And Some By Virtue Fall: Some Run From Brakes Of Ice, And Answer None: And Some Condemned For A Fault Alone.

If Ever Thou Be'st Bound In Thy Scarf And Beaten, Thou Shalt Find What It Is To Be Proud Of Thy Bondage.

O Time, Thou Must Untangle This, Not I. It Is Too Hard A Knot For Me T'untie.

The Hand Of Little Employment Hath The Daintier Sense.

Death Is My Son-in-law, Death Is My Heir.

Having My Freedom, Boast Of Nothing Else.

Swear Me, Kate, Like A Lady As Thou Art, A Good Mouth-filling Oath.

Hate Pollutes The Mind.

Farewell! A Long Farewell To All My Greatness!

Farewell The Plumed Troop, And The Big Wars That Make Ambition Virtue! O, Farewell! Farewell The Neighing Steed And The Shrill Trump, The Spirit-stirring Drum, Th' Ear-piercing Fife, The Royal Banner, And All Quality, Pride, Pomp, And Circumstance Of Glorious War!

Love Looks Not With The Eyes, But With The Mind, And Therefore Is Winged Cupid Painted Blind.

To Be In Love, Where Scorn Is Bought With Groans; Coy Looks, With Heart-sore Sighs; One Fading Moment's Mirth

The Miserable Have No Other Medicine But Only Hope.

The Wheel Is Come Full Circle.

For My Part, If A Lie May Do Thee Grace, I'll Gild It With The Happiest Terms I Have.

What, Can The Devil Speak True?

What Wouldst Thou Do, Old Man? Think'st Thou That Duty Shall Have Dread To Speak When Power To Flattery Bows?

Summer's Lease Hath All Too Short A Date.

Thus Have I, Wall, My Part Discharged So; And, Being Done, Thus Wall Away Doth Go.

I Have Supped Full With Horrors.

I Feel It Gone, Yet Know Not When It Left.

For Some Must Watch, While Some Must Sleep So Runs The World Away

Let None Presume To Wear An Undeserved Dignity.

To Beguile The Time, Look Like The Time. Bear Welcome In Your Eye, Your Hand, Your Tongue.

Time Shall Unfold What Plaited Cunning Hides: Who Cover Faults, At Last Shame Them Derides.

I Am Thy Father's Spirit; Doom'd For A Certain Term To Walk The Night And, For The Day, Confin'd To Fast In Fires, Till The Foul Crimes, Done In My Days Of Nature, Are Burnt And Purg'd Away.

There's Neither Honesty, Manhood, Nor Good Fellowship In Thee.

Love Does Not See With The Eyes, But With The Soul.

In Nature There's No Blemish But The Mind. None Can Be Called Deformed But The Unkind.

Better Three Hours Too Soon, Than One Hour To Late.

To Be Honest, As This World Goes, Is To Be One Man Picked Out Of Ten Thousand.

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. . . .

Thus Conscience Does Make Cowards Of Us All; And Thus The Native Hue Of Resolution Is Slicked O'er With The Pale Cast Of Thought

Ever Note, Lucilius, When Love Begins To Sicken And Decay It Useth An Enforced Ceremony. There Are No Tricks In Plain And Simple Faith; But Hollow Men, Like Horses Hot At Hand, Make Gallant Show And Promise Of Their Mettle; But When They Should Endure The Bloody Spur, They Fall Their Crests, And Like Deceitful Jades Sink In The Trial.

Modest Wisdom Plucks Me From Over-credulous Haste.

There's Place And Means For Every Man Alive.

If There Is A Good Will, There Is Great Way.

The Band That Seems To Tie Their Friendship Together Will Be The Very Strangler Of Their Amity.

By That Sin Fell The Angels.

To Pore Upon A Book, To Seek The Light Of Truth.

This World Is Not For Aye, Nor 'tis Not Strange That Even Our Loves Should With Our Fortunes Change, For 'tis A Question Left Us Yet To Prove, Whether Love Lead Fortune, Or Else Fortune Love.

Presume Not That I Am The Thing I Was.

You Know That Love Will Creep In Service Where It Cannot Go.

Your Hearts Are Mighty, Your Skins Are Whole.

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

A Plague Of Sighing And Grief! It Blows A Man Up Like A Bladder.

Where I Could Not Be Honest, I Never Yet Was Valiant.

There's No Better Sign Of A Brave Mind Than A Hard Hand.

For In My Youth I Never Did Apply Hot And Rebellious Liquors In My Blood.

I Love You More Than Word Can Wield The Matter, Dearer Than Eye-sight, Space And Liberty

The Gallantry Of His Grief Did Put Me Into A Towering Passion.

Hadst Thou No Poison Mixed, No Sharp-ground Knife, No Sudden Mean Of Death, Though Ne'er So Mean, But 'banished' To Kill Me--'banished'? O Friar, The Damned Use That Word In Hell; Howling Attends It! How Hast Thou The Heart, Being A Divine, A Ghostly Confessor, A Sin-absolver, And My Friend Professed, To Mangle Me With That Word 'banished'?

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

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

Our Holy Lives Must Win A New World's Crown.

How Art Thou Out Of Breath When Thou Hast Breath To Say To Me That Thou Art Out Of Breath?

I Am The Prince Of Wales; And Think Not, Percy, To Share With Me In Glory Any More: Two Stars Keep Not Their Motion In One Sphere.

For Brutus Is An Honourable Man; So Are They All, All Honourable Men.

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