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The Crow Doth Sing As Sweetly As The Lark When Neither Is Attended; And I Think The Nightingale, If She Should Sing By Day When Every Goose Is Cackling, Would Be Thought No Better A Musician Than The Wren. How Many Thing By Season Seasoned Are To Their Right Praise And True Perfection!

-William Shakespeare

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The Crow Doth Sing

William Shakespeare

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The Crow Doth Sing As Sweetly As The Lark When Neither Is Attended; And I Think The Nightingale, If She Should Sing By Day When Every Goose Is Cackling, Would Be Thought No Better A Musician Than The Wren. How Many Thing By Season Seasoned Are To Their Right Praise And True Perfection!

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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

For Who So Firm That Cannot Be Seduced?

Things Past Redress Are Now With Me Past Care

Let's All Cry Peace, Freedom, And Liberty!

The Time Is Out Of Joint.

Beauty Is But A Vain And Doubtful Good; A Shining Gloss That Fadeth Suddenly; A Flower That Dies When It Begins To Bud; A Doubtful Good, A Gloss, A Glass, A Flower, Lost, Faded, Broken, Dead Within An Hour.

Children Wish Fathers Looked But With Their Eyes; Fathers That Children With Their Judgment Looked; And Either May Be Wrong.

To Be Direct And Honest Is Not Safe.

When We Mean To Build, We First Survey The Plot, Then Draw The Model; And When We See The Figure Of The House, Then Must We Rate The Cost Of The Erection.

O, Call Back Yesterday, Bid Time Return

When Sorrows Come, They Come Not Single Spies, But In Battalions.

At This Hour Lie At My Mercy All Mine Enemies.

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

Cupid Is A Knavish Lad, Thus To Make Poor Females Mad.

Now Let It Work. Mischief, Thou Art Afoot. Take Thou What Course Thou Wilt.

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Rough Winds Do Shake The Darling Buds Of May.

What: Is The Jay More Precious Than The Lark Because His Feathers Are More Beautiful?

Nimble Thought Can Jump Both Sea And Land.

My Life, My Joy, My Food, My Ail The World!

What We Determine We Often Break. Purpose Is But The Slave To Memory.

Romeo: I Dreamt A Dream Tonight. Mercutio: And So Did I. Romeo: Well, What Was Yours? Mercutio: That Dreamers Often Lie. Romeo: In Bed Asleep While They Do Dream Things True.

Simply The Thing That I Am Shall Make Me Live.

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

God Bless Thee; And Put Meekness In Thy Breast, Love, Charity, Obedience, And True Duty!

There's Rosemary And Rue. These Keep Seeming And Savor All The Winter Long. Grace And Remembrance Be To You.

Love's Not Time's Fool, Though Rosy Lips And Cheeks Within His Bending Sickle's Compass Come.

One Pain Is Cured By Another. Catch Some New Infection In Your Eye And The Poison Of The Old One Would Die.

Gold Were As Good As Twenty Orators.

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

And Worse I May Be Yet: The Worst Is Not So Long As We Can Say 'this Is The Worst.

What Need The Bridge Much Broader Than The Flood?

It Easeth Some, Though None It Ever Cured, To Think Their Dolour Others Have Endured.

The Better Part Of Valor Is Discretion, In The Which Better Part I Have Saved My Life.

Offering Advice

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

Sometimes, Less Is More.

Happy Thou Art Not; For What Thou Hast Not, Still Thou Strivest To Get; And What Thou Hast, Forgettest.

All The Perfumes Of Arabia Will Not Sweeten This Little Hand! Oh, Oh, Oh!

Words Are Easy, Like The Wind; Faithful Friends Are Hard To Find.

An Two Men Ride Of A Horse, One Must Ride Behind.

Love That Well Which Thou Must Leave Ere Long.

Conversation Should Be Pleasant Without Scurrility, Witty Without Affectation, Free Without Indecency, Learned Without Conceitedness, Novel Without Falsehood.

So Well Thy Words Become Thee As Thy Wounds.

Make The Upcoming Hour Overflow With Joy, And Let Pleasure Drown The Brim.

Full Fathom Five Thy Father Lies; Of His Bones Are Coral Made; Those Are Pearls That Were His Eyes; Nothing Of Him That Doth Fade, But Doth Suffer A Sea-change Into Something Rich And Strange. Sea-nymphs Hourly Ring His Knell: Ding-dong. Hark! Now I Hear Them — Ding-dong, Bell.

Let Me Embrace Thee, Sour Adversity, For Wise Men Say It Is The Wisest Course.

God Grant Us Patience!

I Count Myself In Nothing Else So Happy As In A Soul Remembering My Good Friends

Stars, Hide Your Fires; Let Not Light See My Black And Deep Desires.

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

You Cannot Make Gross Sins Look Clear: To Revenge Is No Valour, But To Bear.

This Goodly Frame, The Earth, Seems To Me A Sterile Promontory, This Most Excellent Canopy, The Air, Look You, This Brave O'erhanging Firmament, This Majestical Roof Fretted With Golden Fire, Why, It Appears No Other Thing To Me Than A Foul And Pestilent Congregation Of Vapours. What A Piece Of Work Is A Man! How Noble In Reason! How Infinite In Faculty! In Form And Moving How Express And Admirable! In Action How Like An Angel! In Apprehension How Like A God! The Beauty Of The World! The Paragon Of Animals! And Yet, To Me, What Is This Quintessence Of Dust?

So Many Miseries Have Craz'd My Voice, That My Woe-wearied Tongue Is Still And Mute.

Dead Shepherd, Now I Find Thy Saw Of Might. Whoever Lov'd That Lov'd Not At First Sight.

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

Their Manners Are More Gentle, Kind, Than Of Our Human Generation You Shall Find.

Cry Havoc And Let Slip The Dogs Of War!

Keep Up Your Bright Swords, For The Dew Will Rust Them.

Pleasure And Action Make The Hours Seem Short.

You Cannot, Sir, Take From Me Any Thing That I Will More Willingly Part Withal: Except My Life, Except My Life, Except My Life.

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We Go To Gain A Little Patch Of Ground That Hath In It No Profit But The Name.

Mercy But Murders, Pardoning Those That Kill.

Haply A Woman's Voice May Do Some Good When Articles Too Nicely Urged Be Stood On.

For Here, I Hope, Begins Our Lasting Joy.

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

It Is Not In The Stars To Hold Our Destiny But In Ourselves.

There's Nothing In This World Can Make Me Joy: Life Is As Tedious As A Twice-told Tale Vexing The Dull Ear Of A Drowsy Man; And Bitter Shame Hath Spoil'd The Sweet World's Taste That It Yields Nought But Shame And Bitterness.

Pride Went Before, Ambition Follows Him.

Examine Well Your Blood.

By-and-by Is Easily Said.

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!

Tis Now The Very Witching Time Of Night, When Churchyards Yawn And Hell Itself Breathes Out Contagion To This World.

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Then Was I As A Tree Whose Boughs Did Bend With Fruit; But In One Night, A Storm Or Robbery, Call It What You Will, Shook Down My Mellow Hangings, Nay, My Leaves, And Left Me Bare To Weather.

I Have Seen The Day Of Wrong Through The Little Hole Of Discretion, And I Will Right Myself Like A Soldier.

A Cup Of Hot Wine With Not A Drop Of Allaying Tiber In 't.

Take You Me For A Sponge?

Come, Go With Us, Speak Fair; You May Salve So, Not What Is Dangerous Present, But The Los Of What Is Past.

Wishers Were Ever Fools.

They May Seize On The White Wonder Of Dear Juliet's Hand And Steal Immortal Blessing From Her Lips, Who, Even In Pure And Vestal Modesty, Still Blush, As Thinking Their Own Kisses Sin.

Being Daily Swallowed By Men's Eyes, They Surfeited With Honey And Began To Loathe The Taste Of Sweetness, Whereof A Little More Than A Little Is By Much Too Much. So, When He Had Occasion To Be Seen, He Was But As The Cuckoo Is In June. Heard, Not Regarded.

The Wound Of Peace Is Surety, Surety Secure.

With This Special Observance, That You O'erstep Not The Modesty Of Nature. For Anything So Overdone Is From The Purpose Of Playing, Whose End, Both At The First And Now, Was And Is, To Hold, As 'twere, The Mirror Up To Nature.

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.

Men Shut Their Doors Against A Setting Sun.

Why, Courage Then! What Cannot Be Avoided 'twere Childish Weakness To Lament Or Fear.

But I, That Am Not Shaped For Sportive Tricks, Nor Made To Court An Amorous Looking-glass; I, That Am Rudely Stamped, And Want Love's Majesty To Strut Before A Wanton Ambling Nymph.

True, I Talk Of Dreams, Which Are The Children Of An Idle Brain, Begot Of Nothing But Vain Fantasy, Which Is As Thin Of Substance As The Air, And More Inconstant Than The Wind, Who Woos Even Now The Frozen Bosom Of The North, And, Being Anger'd, Puffs Away From Thence, Turning His Side To The Dew-dropping South.

I'll Look To Like; If Looking, Liking Move.

He Is Well Paid That Is Well Satisfied.

Alas, Our Frailty Is The Cause , Not We! For, Such As We Are Made Of, Such We Be.

O My Good Lord, That Comfort Comes Too Late, 'tis Like A Pardon After Execution. That Gentle Physic, Given In Time, Had Cured Me; But Now I Am Past All Comforts Here But Prayers.

By Innocence I Swear, And By My Youth, I Have One Heart, One Bosom, And One Truth, And That No Woman Has, Nor Never None Shall Mistress Be Of It Save I Alone.

Though This Be Madness, Yet There Is Method In't.

I Am Declined Into The Vale Of Years.

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

Thou Art Sad; Get Thee A Wife, Get Thee A Wife!

Thine Eyes I Love, And They, As Pitying Me, Knowing Thy Heart Torment Me With Disdain, Have Put On Black And Loving Mourners Be, Looking With Pretty Ruth Upon My Pain. And Truly Not The Morning Sun Of Heaven Better Becomes The Grey Cheeks Of The East, Nor That Full Star That Ushers In The Even, Doth Half That Glory To The Sober West, As Those Two Mourning Eyes Become Thy Face: O! Let It Then As Well Beseem Thy Heart To Mourn For Me Since Mourning Doth Thee Grace, And Suit Thy Pity Like In Every Part. Then Will I Swear Beauty Herself Is Black, And All They Foul That Thy Complexion Lack

Appetite, A Universal Wolf.

Seek Happy Nights To Happy Days.w

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The Time Is Out Of Joint : O Cursed Spite, That Ever I Was Born To Set It Right!

Hamlet And Ophelia

Death Is My Son-in-law. Death Is My Heir. My Daughter He Hath Wedded. I Will Die, And Leave Him All. Life, Living, All Is Death’s.

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

Set Your Heart At Rest. The Fairyland Buys Not The Child Of Me.

The Wheel Is Come Full Circle.

There Are Many Events In The Womb Of Time Which Will Be Delivered.

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

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.

I Will Kill Thee A Hundred And Fifty Ways.

Where Hateful Death Put On His Ugliest Mask.

He That Sleeps Feels Not The Tooth-ache

I Wasted Time, And Now Doth Time Waste Me.

O, Speak Again, Bright Angel! For Thou Art As Glorious To This Night, Being O'er My Head As Is A Winged Messenger Of Heaven

Being Holiday, The Beggar's Shop Is Shut.

And Nothing Can We Call Our Own But Death And That Small Model Of The Barren Earth Which Serves As Paste And Cover To Our Bones. For God's Sake, Let Us Sit Upon The Ground And Tell Sad Stories Of The Death Of Kings.

Supposition All Our Lives Shall Be Stuck Full Of Eyes; For Treason Is But Trusted Like The Fox, Who, Ne'er So Tame, So Cherished And Locked Up, Will Have A Wild Trick Of His Ancestors.

Is It Not Strange, That Sheep's Guts Should Hale Souls Out Of Men's Bodies!

Those That Are Good Manners At The Court Are As Ridiculous In The Country, As The Behavior Of The Country Is Most Mockable At The Court.

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.

All Fancy-sick She Is And Pale Of Cheer, With Sighs Of Love, That Costs The Fresh Blood Dear.

. . . Nothing In His Life Became Him Like The Leaving It; He Died As One That Had Been Studied In His Death To Throw Away The Dearest Thing He Owed, As 'twere A Careless Trifle.

Thou Sodden-witted Lord! Thou Hast No More Brain Than I Have In Mine Elbows.

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.

Love All, Trust A Few, Do Wrong To None.

His Neigh Is Like The Bidding Of A Monarch, And His Countenance Enforces Homage. He Is Indeed A Horse.

Tis Our Fast Intent To Shake All Cares And Business From Our Age, Conferring Them On Younger Strengths, While We Unburdened Crawl Toward Death.

What Else May Hap, To Time I Will Commit.

Affliction Is Enamoured Of Thy Parts, And Thou Art Wedded To Calamity.

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

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

Ay Me! For Aught That Ever I Could Read, Could Ever Hear By Tale Or History, The Course Of True Love Never Did Run Smooth.

How Hard It Is For Women To Keep Counsel!

In Thy Youth Wast As True A Lover, As Ever Sighed Upon A Midnight Pillow

Love Is A Spirit All Compact Of Fire.

Moderate Lamentation Is The Right Of The Dead, Excessive Grief The Enemy To The Living.

Out, Out, Brief Candle! Life's But A Walking Shadow.

Futility Of Life

There's Not A Note Of Mine That's Worth The Noting.

All Things Are Ready, If Our Mind Be So.

Is Love A Tender Thing? It Is Too Rough, Too Rude, Too Boisterous, And It Pricks Like Thorn.

Now, Infidel, I Have You On The Hip!

Merchant Of Venice

I Can Hardly Forbear Hurling Things At Him.

There Are Occasions And Causes, Why And Wherefore In All Things.

To Saucy Doubts And Fears.

It Is Not Enough To Speak, But To Speak Truee

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.

The Jury Passing On The Prisoner's Life May In The Sworn Twelve Have A Thief Or Two Guiltier Than Him They Try.

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

There's Many A Man Hath More Hair Than Wit.

When I Bestride Him, I Soar, I Am A Hawk: He Trots The Air; The Earth Sings When He Touches It; The Basest Horn Of His Hoof Is More Musical Than The Pipe Of Hermes.

Tis Not The Many Oaths That Make The Truth; But The Plain Single Vow, That Is Vow'd True.

Blow, Blow, Thou Winter Wind, Thou Art Not So Unkind As Mans Ingratitude Thy Tooth Is Not So Keen, Because Thou Art Not Seen, Although Thy Breath Be Rude. Heigh-ho Sing, Heigh-ho Unto The Green Holly Most Friendship Is Feigning, Most Loving Mere Folly. Then Heigh-ho The Holly This Life Is Most Jolly. Freeze, Freeze, Thou Bitter Sky, That Dost Not Bite So Nigh As Benefits Forgot Though Thou The Waters Warp, Thy Sting Is Not So Sharp As Friend Rememberd Not.

He Must Needs Go That The Devil Drives.

Faith, There Hath Been Many Great Men That Have Flattered The People Who Ne'er Loved Them.

My Conscience Hath A Thousand Several Tongues, And Every Tongue Brings In A Several Tale, And Every Tale Condemns Me For A Villain. Perjury, Perjury, In The High'st Degree; Murder, Stern Murder In The Dir'st Degree, Throng To The Bar, Crying All, 'guilty!, Guilty!

You Must Not Think That We Are Made Of Stuff So Fat And Dull That We Can Let Our Beard Be Shook With Danger And Think It Pastime.

Leonato Well, Niece, I Hope To See You One Day Fitted With A Husband. Beatrice Not Till God Make Men Of Some Other Metal Than Earth. Would It Not Grieve A Woman To Be Overmastered With A Pierce Of Valiant Dust? To Make An Account Of Her Life To A Clod Of Wayward Marl? No, Uncle, I'll None: Adam's Sons Are My Brethren; And, Truly, I Hold It A Sin To Match In My Kindred.

The Gray-eyed Morn Smiles On The Frowning Night, Checkering The Eastern Clouds With Streaks Of Light.

We Make Trifles Of Terrors, Ensconcing Ourselves Into Seeming Knowledge, When We Should Submit Ourselves To An Unknown Fear.

You Are Not Wood, You Are Not Stones, But Men; And Being Men, Hearing The Will Of Caesar, It Will Inflame You, It Will Make You Mad.

Forever, And Forever, Farewell, Cassius! If We Do Meet Again, Why, We Shall Smile; If Not, Why Then This Parting Was Well Made.

When The Age Is In, The Wit Is Out

Don't Judge A Man's Conscience By Looking At His Face Cause He May Have A Bad Heart.

Watch Tonight, Pray Tomorrow. Gallants, Lads, Boys, Hearts Of Gold, All The Titles Of Good Fellowship Come To You!

O, That Our Fathers Would Applause Our Loves, To Seal Our Happiness With Hteir Consents!

Thou Art The Mars Of Malcontents.

Where Shall We Three Meet Again In Thunder, Lightning, Or In Rain? When The Hurlyburly 's Done, When The Battle 's Lost And Won

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

You Are Strangely Troublesome.

A Heavier Task Could Not Have Been Impos'd, Than I To Speak My Griefs Unspeakable.

This Making Of Christians Will Raise The Price Of Hogs.

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.

He's All My Exercise, My Mirth, My Matter.

Look, What A Horse Should Have He Did Not Lack, Save A Proud Rider On His Back.

There Is No Sure Foundation Set On Blood, No Certain Life Achieved By Others' Death.

O, Spirit Of Love, How Quick And Fresh Art Thou!

How Oft The Sight Of Means To Do Ill Deeds Makes Ill Deeds Done!

Love's Mind Of Judgment Rarely Hath A Taste: Wings And No Eyes Figure Unheedy Haste.

The Daintiest Last, To Make The End Most Sweet.

Some Glory In Their Birth , Some In Their Skill , Some In Their Wealth , Some In Their Bodies' Force , Some In Their Garments, Though New-fangled Ill; Some In Their Hawks And Hounds , Some In Their Horse ; And Every Humor Hath His Adjunct Pleasure , Wherein It Finds A Joy Above The Rest .

When That Churl Death My Bones With Dust Shall Cover.

Life Is As Tedious As Twice-told Tale, Vexing The Dull Ear Of A Drowsy Man.

The Horn, The Horn, The Lusty Horn Is Not A Thing To Laugh To Scorn.

I Hourly Learn A Doctrine Of Obedience.

To This Urn Let Those Repair That Are Either True Or Fair; For These Dead Birds Sigh A Prayer.

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

Care Is No Cure, But Rather Corrosive, For Things That Are Not To Be Remedied.

I Am Indeed, Sir, A Surgeon To Old Shoes; When They Are In Great Danger I Recover Them.

If It Be You That Stirs These Daughters' Hearts Against Their Father, Fool Me Not So Much To Bear It Tamely; Touch Me With Noble Anger, And Let Not Women's Weapons, Water Drops, Stain My Man's Cheeks.

You Take My House When You Do Take The Prop That Doth Sustain My House; You Take My Life When You Do Take The Means Whereby I Live.

Every Why Has A Wherefore.

In Friendship, As In Love, We Are Often Happier Through Our Ignorance Than Our Knowledge.

As For My Wife, I Would You Had Her Spirit In Such Another; The Third O' Th' World Is Yours, Which With A Snaffle You May Pace Easy, But Not Such A Wife.

Speak Of Me As I Am. Nothing Extenuate, Nor Set Down Aught In Malice.

O' Thinkest Thou We Shall Ever Meet Again? I Doubt It Not; And All These Woes Shall Serve For Sweet Discourses In Our Times To Come.

Who Buys A Minute's Mirth To Wail A Week? Or Sell Eternity To Get A Toy? For One Grape Who Will The Vine Destroy?

There Is Flattery In Friendship.

O, Swear Not By The Moon, The Fickle Moon, The Inconstant Moon, That Monthly Changes In Her Circle Orb, Lest That Thy Love Prove Likewise Variable

There Is No Love-broker In The World Can More Prevail In Man's Commendation With Woman Than Report Of Valor.

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