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Let Us Sit And Mock The Good Housewife Fortune From Her Wheel, That Her Gifts May Henceforth Be Bestowed Equally, I Would We Could Do So For Her Benefits Are Mightily Misplaced And The Bountiful Blind Girl Doth Most Mistake In Her Gifts To Women. 'tis True For Those That She Makes Fair She Scarce Makes Honest And Those That She Makes Honest She Makes Very Ill-favouredly. Nay, Now Thou Goest From Fortunes Office To Natures. Fortune Reigns In Gifts Of The World, Not In The Lineaments Of Nature.

-William Shakespeare

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Let Us Sit And

William Shakespeare

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Let Us Sit And Mock The Good Housewife Fortune From Her Wheel, That Her Gifts May Henceforth Be Bestowed Equally, I Would We Could Do So For Her Benefits Are Mightily Misplaced And The Bountiful Blind Girl Doth Most Mistake In Her Gifts To Women. 'tis True For Those That She Makes Fair She Scarce Makes Honest And Those That She Makes Honest She Makes Very Ill-favouredly. Nay, Now Thou Goest From Fortunes Office To Natures. Fortune Reigns In Gifts Of The World, Not In The Lineaments Of Nature.

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Fair Ladies, Masked, Are Roses In Their Bud; Dismasked, The Damask Sweet Commixture Shown, Are Angels Vailing Clouds, Or Roses Blown.

The Undiscovered Country From Whose Bourn No Traveler Returns.

Why, Then The World ’s Mine Oyster, Which I With Sword Will Open.

One May Smile, And Smile, And Be A Villain.

Hamlet And Ophelia

What Seest Thou Else In The Dark Backward And Abysm Of Time?

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

I Can See He's Not In Your Good Books,' Said The Messenger. 'no, And If He Were I Would Burn My Library.

A Hit, A Very Palpable Hit.

There's Rosemary, That's For Remembrance; Pray You, Love, Remember: And There Is Pansies, That's For Thoughts. There's Fennel For You, And Columbines: — There 's Rue For You; And Here's Some For Me: — We May Call It, Herb Of Grace O'sundays: — You May Wear Your Rue With A Difference. — There's A Daisy: — I Would Give You Some Violets; But They Withered All, When My Father Died: — They Say, He Made A Good End.

Then Is It Sin To Rush Into The Secret House Of Death. Ere Death Dare Come To Us?

But It Is A Melancholy Of Mine Own, Compounded Of Many Simples, Extracted From Many Objects, And Indeed The Sundry Contemplation Of My Travels, Which, By Often Rumination, Wraps Me In The Most Humorous Sadness.

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

I Hourly Learn A Doctrine Of Obedience.

No Reckoning Made, But Sent To My Account With All My Imperfections On My Head.

The Wheel Is Come Full Circle.

Hereditary Sloth Instructs Me.

Ill Met By Moonlight, Proud Titania

A Man Should Be What He Seems.

Nature, As It Grows Again Toward Earth, Is Fashioned For The Journey, Dull And Heavy.

Of Chastity, The Ornaments Are Chaste.

Sleep Knits Up The Raveled Sleeve Of Care.

The Proverb Is Something Musty.

God Defend Me From That Welsh Fairy, Lest He Transform Me To A Piece Of Cheese!

But Yet, I Say, If Imputation And Strong Circumstances, Which Lead Directly To The Door Of Truth, Will Give You Satisfaction, You May Have It.

All That Glisters Is Not Gold; Often Have You Heard That Told.

I Rather Would Entreat Thy Company; To See The Wonders Of The World Abroad, Than, Living Dully Sluggardized At Home, Wear Out Thy Youth With Shapeless Idleness.

Learning Is But An Adjunct To Ourself, And Where We Are Our Learning Likewise Is.

For 'tis The Sport To Have The Engineer Hoist With His Own Petar; And't Shall Go Hard But I Will Delve One Yard Below Their Mines And Blow Them At The Moon.

Not All The Water In The Rough Rude Sea Can Wash The Balm From An Anointed King.

This Day I Breathed First: Time Is Come Round, And Where I Did Begin There Shall I End; My Life Is Run His Compass.

O, What Damned Minutes Tells He O'er Who Dotes, Yet Doubts, Suspects, Yet Fondly Loves!

A Good Leg Will Fall; A Straight Back Will Stoop; A Black Beard Will Turn White; A Curl'd Pate Will Grow Bald; A Fair Face Will Wither; A Full Eye Will Wax Hollow: But A Good Heart, Kate, Is The Sun And The Moon; Or, Rather, The Sun, And Not The Moon, — For It Shines Bright, And Never Changes, But Keeps His Course Truly.

Well, God Give Them Wisdom That Have It; And Those That Are Fools, Let Them Use Their Talents.

O Shame, Where Is Thy Blush?

O, She's Warm! If This Be Magic, Let It Be An Art Lawful As Eating.

Well-apparel'd April On The Heel Of Limping Winter Treads.

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

Let There Be Gall Enough In Thy Ink, Though Thou Write With A Goose-pen, No Matter.

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?

When Griping Grief The Heart Doth Wound, And Doleful Dumps The Mind Opresses, Then Music, With Her Silver Sound, With Speedy Help Doth Lend Redress.

Have You Not Love Enough To Bear With Me, When That Rash Humor Which My Mother Gave Me Makes Me Forgetful.

A Dream Itself Is But A Shadow.

If The Masses Can Love Without Knowing Why, They Also Hate Without Much Foundation.

Tell Me Where Is Fancy Bred, Or In The Heart, Or In The Head? How Begot, How Nourished? Reply, Reply. It Is Engend'red In The Eyes, With Gazing Fed, And Fancy Dies In The Cradle Where It Lies.

Highly Fed And Lowly Taught.

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

When A Father Gives To His Son, Both Laugh; When A Son Gives To His Father, Both Cry.

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

Hell Is Empty And All The Devils Are Here.

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

Weary With Toil, I Haste Me To My Bed The Dear Repose For Limbs With Travel Tired; But Then Begins A Journey In My Head To Work My Mind, When Body's Work's Expir'd: For Then My Thoughts-from Far Where I Abide- Intend A Zealous Pilgrimage To Thee, And Keep My Drooping Eyelids Open Wide, Looking On Darkness Which The Blind Do See: Save That My Soul's Imaginary Sight Presents Thy Shadow To My Sightless View, Which, Like A Jewel Hung In Ghastly Night, Makes Black Night Beauteous And Her Old Face New. Lo! Thus, By Day My Limbs, By Night My Mind, For Thee, And For Myself No Quiet Find.

Words Are Grown So False, I Am Loath To Prove Reason With Them.

That Truth Should Be Silent I Had Almost Forgot. (enobarbus)

Preferred Three Hours Quicker Over One Moment Late.

... I Am At War 'twixt Will And Will Not.

Dissembling Courtesy! How Fine This Tyrant Can Trickle When She Wounds!

In Thee Thy Mother Dies, Our Household's Name, My Death's Revenge, Thy Youth, And England's Fame.

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!

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

Nothing Emboldens Sin So Much As Mercy.

My Business Was Great, And In Such A Case As Mine A Man May Strain Courtesy.

No Evil Lost Is Wailed When It Is Gone.

Most Dear Actors, Eat No Onions Nor Garlic, For We Are To Utter Sweet Breath.

His Forward Voice Now Is To Speak Well Of His Friend. His Backward Voice Is To Utter Foul Speeches And To Detract.

She Marking Them Begins A Wailing Note And Sings Extemporally A Woeful Ditty How Love Makes Young Men Thrall And Old Men Dote How Love Is Wise In Folly, Foolish-witty Her Heavy Anthem Still Concludes In Woe, And Still The Choir Of Echoes Answer So.

Be Not Afeard; The Isle Is Full Of Noises.

Sweet Beatrice, Wouldst Thou Come When I Called Thee? Beatrice Yea, Signior, And Depart When You Bid Me. Benedick O, Stay But Till Then! Beatrice 'then' Is Spoken; Fare You Well Now... (much Ado About Nothing)

One Touch Of Nature Makes The Whole World Kin.

No Doubt They Rose Up Early To Observe The Rite Of May; And, Hearing Our Intent, Came Here In Grace Of Our Solemnity.

I Love You With So Much Of My Heart That None Is Left To Protest.

The Hideous God Of War.

Such Is My Love, To Thee I So Belong, That For Thy Right Myself Will Bear All Wrong.

'tis Dangerous To Take A Cold, To Sleep, To Drink; But I Tell You, My Lord Fool, Out Of This Nettle, Danger, We Pluck This Flower, Safety.

I Am A Great Eater Of Beef, And I Believe That Does Harm To My Wit.

Is It Possible That Love Should Of A Sudden Take Such A Hold?

Taming Of The Shrew

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.

You Must Confine Yourself Within The Modest Limits Of Order.

Bow, Stubborn Knees, And, Heart With Strings Of Steel, Be Soft As Sinews Of The New-born Babe. All Many Be Well.

What My Tongue Dares Not That My Heart Shall Say

I Had Rather Eleven Died Nobly For Their Country Than One Voluptuously Surfeit Out Of Action.

A Woman That Is Like A German Clock, Still A-repairing, Ever Out Of Frame, And Never Going Aright, Being A Watch, But Being Watched That It May Still Go Right!

Dissembling Harlot, Thou Art False In All!

All Days Are Nights To See Till I See Thee, And Nights Bright Days When Dreams Do Show Thee Me.

Our Wills And Fates Do So Contrary Run.

Sit By My Side, And Let The World Slip: We Shall Ne'er Be Younger.

He Knows What It's Like To Strut And Fret His Hour Upon The Stage And Then Be Heard No More.

Lord, What Fools These Mortals Be!

Use Every Man After His Desert, And Who Should Scape Whipping?

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

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.

No Legacy Is So Rich As Honesty.

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

The Loyalty, Well Held To Fools, Does Make Our Faith Mere Folly.

No Deeper Wrinkles Yet? Hath Sorrow Struck So Many Blows Upon This Face Of Mine And Made No Deeper Wounds?

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

While Thou Livest Keep A Good Tongue In Thy Head.

Friendly Counsel Cuts Off Many Foes.

Even So; An't Please Your Worship, Brakenbury, You May Partake Of Any Thing We Say: We Speak No Treason, Man; We Say The King Is Wise And Virtuous, And His Noble Queen Well Struck In Years, Fair, And Not Jealous; We Say That Shore's Wife Hath A Pretty Foot, A Cherry Lip, A Bonny Eye, A Passing Pleasing Tongue; And That The Queen's Kindred Are Made Gentlefolks.

What's To Come Is Still Unsure: In Delay There Lies No Plenty; Then Come Kiss Me, Sweet And Twenty, Youth's A Stuff Will Not Endure.

My Charity Is Outrage, Life My Shame; And In That Shame Still Live My Sorrow's Rage!

Now, My Co-mates And Brothers In Exile, Hath Not Old Custom Made This Life More Sweet Than That Of Painted Pomp? Are Not These Woods More Free From Peril Than The Envious Court?

O, Reason Not The Need!

Lawless Are They That Make Their Wills Their Law.

I Have Drunk And Seen The Spider.

The Evil That Men Do Lives After Them; The Good Is Oft Interred With Their Bones.

So Fair And Foul A Day I Had Not Seen.

But Whate'er I Am, Nor I Nor Any Man That But Man Is, With Nothing Shall Be Pleased 'til He Be Eased With Being Nothing.

Do Not Give Dalliance Too Much Rein; The Strongest Oaths Are Straw To The Fire In The Blood.

I Had Rather Be A Toad, And Live Upon The Vapor Of A Dungeon Than Keep A Corner In The Thing I Love For Others Uses.

Never Play With The Feelings Of Others, Because You May Win The Game But The Risk Is That You Will Surely Lose The Person For Life Time

Against Ill Chances Men Are Ever Merry, But Heaviness Foreruns The Good Event.

When I Waked, I Cried To Dream Again

Your Date Is Better In Your Pie And Your Porridge Than In Your Cheek.

After Your Death You Were Better Have A Bad Epitaph Than Their Ill Report While You Live.

Beauty Within Itself Should Not Be Wasted.

The Course Of True Love Never Did Run Smooth.

Men Judge By The Complexion Of The Sky The State And Inclination Of The Day.

Away! Thou'rt Poison To My Blood.

Scarce Can I Speak, My Choler Is So Great. Oh! I Could Hew Up Rocks, And Fight With Flint.

Miracles Are Ceased; And Therefore We Must Needs Admit The Means, How Things Are Perfected.

Nothing Comes Amiss, So Money Comes Withal.

Taming Of The Shrew

Nor Shall This Peace Sleep With Her; But As When The Bird Of Wonder Dies, The Maiden Phoenix, Her Ashes New-create Another Heir As Great In Admiration As Herself.

Wine Loved I Deeply, Dice Dearly.

A Knot You Are Of Damned Bloodsuckers.

Good With Out Evil Is Like Light With Out Darkness Which In Turn Is Like Righteousness Whith Out Hope.

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.

My Lord, They Say Five Moons Were Seen To-night-- Four Fixed, And The Fifth Did Whirl About The Other Four In Wondrous Motion.

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

The Law Hath Not Been Dead, Though It Hath Slept.

Measure For Measure

Grace Me No Grace, Nor Uncle Me No Uncle.

If Thou Dost Seek To Have What Thou Dost Hide, By Self-example Mayst Thou Be Denied.

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.

He Says, He Loves My Daughter; I Think So Too; For Never Gaz'd The Moon Upon The Water, As He'll Stand And Read, As 'twere, My Daughter's Eyes: And, To Be Plain, I Think, There Is Not Half A Kiss To Choose, Who Loves Another Best.

And Therefore Is Love Said To Be A Child, Because In Choice He Is So Oft Beguil'd

Death, That Hath Suck'd The Honey Of Thy Breath Hath Had No Power Yet Upon Thy Beauty.

I Am Such A Tender Ass, If My Hair Do But Tickle Me, I Must Scratch.

Love Is Like A Child, That Longs For Everything It Can Come By

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

Death Of A Friend

Good Name In Man And Woman, Dear My Lord, Is The Immediate Jewel Of Their Souls: Who Steals My Purse Steals Trash; ’tis Something, Nothing; ’twas Mine, ’tis His, And Has Been Slave To Thousands; But He That Filches From Me My Good Name Robs Me Of That Which Not Enriches Him, And Makes Me Poor Indeed.

What Many Men Desire--that 'many' May Be Meant By The Fool Multitude That Choose By Show, Not Learning More Than The Fond Eye Doth Teach, Which Pries Not To Th' Interior, But Like The Martlet Builds In The Weather On The Outward Wall, Even In The Force And Road Of Casualty.

I Can Call Spirits From The Vasty Deep.

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

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

Obey Thy Parents, Keep Thy Word Justly; Swear Not; Commit Not With Man's Sworn Spouse; Set Not Thy Sweet Heart On Proud Array. * * * Keep Thy Foot Out Of Brothels, Thy Pen From Lenders' Books.

Brutus, I Do Observe You Now Of Late: I Have Not From Your Eyes That Gentleness And Show Of Love As I Was Wont To Have: You Bear Too Stubborn And Too Strange A Hand Over Your Friend That Loves You. Poor Brutus, With Himself At War, Forgets The Shows Of Love To Other Men.

You Kiss By Th' Book.

O England! Model To Thy Inward Greatness, Like Little Body With A Might Heart.

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

I Do Not Know What Kind Of My Obedience I Should Tender. More Than My All Is Nothing; Nor My Prayers Are Not Words Holy Hallowed, Nor My Wishes More Worth Than Empty Vanities; Yet Prayers And Wishes Are All I Can Return.

Twere To Consider Too Curiously, To Consider So.

Travelers Never Did Lie, Though Fools At Home Condemn Them.

Care For Us! True, Indeed! They Ne'er Cared For Us Yet: Suffer Us To Famish, And Their Storehouses Crammed With Grain; Make Edicts For Usury, To Support Usurers; Repeal Daily Any Wholesome Act Established Against The Rich, And Provide More Piercing Statutes Daily To Chain Up And Restrain The Poor. If The Wars Eat Us Not Up, They Will; And There's All The Love They Bear Us.

Because It Is A Customary Cross, As Die To Love As Thoughts, And Dreams, And Sighs, Wishes, And Tears, Poor Fancy's Followers.

In A False Quarrel There Is No True Valor.

My Hounds Are Bred Out Of The Spartan Kind; So Flew'd, So Sanded; Their Heads Are Hung With Ears That Sweep Away The Morning Dew.

And Thou, All-shaking Thunder, Strike Flat The Thick Rotundity O' The World! Crack Nature's Moulds, All Germens Spill At Once That Makes Ingrateful Man!

A Light Wife Doth Make A Heavy Husband.

In Maiden Meditation, Fancy Free.

For Naught So Vile That On The Earth Doth Live But To The Earth Some Special Good Doth Give.

Lovers And Madmen Have Such Seething Brains Such Shaping Fantasies, That Apprehend More Than Cool Reason Ever Comprehends.

Love Is . . . A Madness Most Discreet

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

Corruption Wins Not More Than Honesty.

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.

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

O Call Not Me To Justify The Wrong, That Thy Unkindness Lays Upon My Heart, Wound Me Not With Thine Eye But With Thy Tongue, Use Power With Power, And Slay Me Not By Art.

To Be Once In Doubt Is Once To Be Resolved.

Now The Time Is Come, That France Must Veil Her Lofty-plumed Crest, And Let Her Head Fall Into England's Lap.

Short Summers Lightly Have A Forward Spring.

Flout 'em, And Scout 'em; And Scout 'em, And Flout 'em; / Thought Is Free.

Sir Andrew Ague-cheek: I'll Stay A Month Longer. I Am A Fellow O' The Strangest Mind I' The World; I Delight In Masques And Revels Sometimes Altogether (he's An Oddity In That He Enjoys Having Fun)

Enjoy'd No Sooner But Despised Straight, Past Reason Hunted, And No Sooner Had Past Reason Hated

Men Shut Their Doors Against A Setting Sun.

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

Be Lion-mettled, Proud, And Take No Care Who Chafes, Who Frets, Or Where Conspirers Are!

Princes Have But Their Titles For Their Glories, An Outward Honor For An Inward Toil; And, For Unfelt Imaginations, They Often Feel A World Of Restless Cares.

Discomfort Guides My Tongue And Bids Me Speak Of Nothing But Despair.

Do You Take Me For A Sponge, My Lord? Hamlet: Ay, Sir; That Soaks Up The King's Countenance, His Rewards, His Authorities. But Such Officers Do The King Best Service In The End: He Keeps Them, Like An Ape, In The Corner Of His Jaw; First Mouthed, To Be Last Swallowed: When He Needs What You Have Gleaned, It Is But Squeezing You, And, Sponge, You Shall Be Dry Again. Rosencrantz: I Understand You Not, My Lord. Hamlet: I Am Glad Of It: A Knavish Speech Sleeps In A Foolish Ear.

I See A Man's Life Is A Tedious One.

Let No Such Man Be Trusted.

He Hath Borne Himself Beyond The Promise Of His Age, Doing, In The Figure Of A Lamb, The Feats Of A Lion.

Cheerily To Sea; The Signs Of War Advance: No King Of England, If Not King Of France

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

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

Thou Hast Not Half That Power To Do Me Harm As I Have To Be Hurt.

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

Well, In That Hit You Miss. She'll Not Be Hit With Cupid's Arrow. She Hath Dian's Wit, And, In Strong Proff Of Chastity Well Armed, From Love's Weak Childish Bow She Lives Uncharmed. She Will Not Stay The Siege Of Loving Terms, Nor Bide Th' Encounter Of Assailing Eyes, Nor Ope Her Lap To Saint-seducing Gold. O, She Is Rich In Beauty; Only Poor That, When She Dies, With Dies Her Store. Act 1,scene 1, Lines 180-197

The Means That Heaven Yields Must Be Embraced, And Not Neglected; Else, If Heaven Would, And We Will Not Heaven's Offer, We Refuse The Proffered Means Of Succor And Redress.

A Pair Of Star-crossed Lovers.

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

I Am Afeard There Are Few Die Well That Die In Battle, For How Can They Charitably Dispose Of Anything When Blood Is Their Argument?

There Is Little Choice In A Barrel Of Rotten Apples.

Crabbed Age And Youth Cannot Live Together: Youth Is Full Of Pleasance, Age Is Full Of Care.

If Yon Bethink Yourself Of Any Crime Unreconcil'd As Yet To Heaven And Grace, Solicit For It Straight.

So. Lie There, My Art.

The Whirligig Of Time Brings In His Revenges.

My Love Is Strengthen'd, Though More Weak In Seeming; I Love Not Less, Though Less The Show Appear: That Love Is Merchandised Whose Rich Esteeming The Owner's Tongue Doth Publish Every Where.

Praising What Is Lost Makes The Remembrance Dear

O Mistress Mine, Where Are You Roaming? O, Stay And Hear; Your True Love's Coming, That Can Sing Both High And Low: Trip No Further, Pretty Sweeting; Journeys End In Lovers Meeting, Every Wise Man's Son Doth Know. What Is Love? 'tis Not Hereafter; Present Mirth Hath Present Laughter; What's To Come Is Still Unsure: In Delay There Lies Not Plenty; Then, Come Kiss Me, Sweet And Twenty, Youth's A Stuff Will Not Endure.

Their Lips Were Four Red Roses On A Stalk.

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