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Those That Much Covet Are With Gain So Fond, For What They Have Not, That Which They Possess They Scatter And Unloose It From Their Bond, And So, By Hoping More, They Have But Less; Or, Gaining More, The Profit Of Excess Is But To Surfeit, And Such Griefs Sustain, That They Prove Bankrupt In This Poor-rich Gain.

-William Shakespeare

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Those That Much Covet

William Shakespeare

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Those That Much Covet Are With Gain So Fond, For What They Have Not, That Which They Possess They Scatter And Unloose It From Their Bond, And So, By Hoping More, They Have But Less; Or, Gaining More, The Profit Of Excess Is But To Surfeit, And Such Griefs Sustain, That They Prove Bankrupt In This Poor-rich Gain.

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Thou Hast No Figures Nor No Fantasies Which Busy Care Draws In The Brains Of Men; Therefore Thou Sleep'st So Sound.

So Sweet Was Ne'er So Fatal. I Must Weep. But They Are Creul Tears. This Sorrow's Heavenly; It Strikes Where It Doth Love.

I Would We Were All Of One Mind, And One Mind Good.

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.

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

Come, Woo Me, Woo Me, For Now I Am In A Holiday Humor, And Like Enough To Consent.

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

Come My Spade. There Is No Ancient Gentlemen But Gardeners, Ditchers, And Grave-makers; They Hold Up Adam's Profession.

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

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

So Curses All Eve's Daughters Of What Complexion Soever.

How Sweet The Moonlight Sleeps Upon This Bank! Here Will We Sit, And Let The Sounds Of Music Creep In Our Ears; Soft Stillness And The Night Become The Touches Of Sweet Harmony. Sit, Jessica: Look, How The Floor Of Heaven Is Thick Inlaid With Patines Of Bright Gold; There's Not The Smallest Orb Which Thou Behold'st But In His Motion Like An Angel Sings, Still Quiring To The Young-eyed Cherubins. Such Harmony Is In Immortal Souls; But Whilst This Muddy Vesture Of Decay Doth Grossly Close It In, We Cannot Hear It.

Cease To Lament For That Thou Canst Not Help; And Study Help For That Which Thou Lamentest.

The Third Day Comes A Frost, A Killing Frost.

Thy Friendship Makes Us Fresh.

Be Like You Thought Our Love Would Last Too Long, If It Were Chain'd Together

Thank Me No Thankings, Nor Proud Me No Prouds.

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

Thou Art A Castilian King Urinal!

He Wears The Rose Of Youth Upon Him.

... And Death Unloads Thee.

What Valor Were It, When A Cur Doth Grin, For One To Thrust His Hand Between His Teeth, When He Might Spurn Him With His Foot Away?

In Struggling With Misfortunes Lies The True Proof Of Virtue.

You're In Love? Out Out Of Love? I Love Someone. She Doesn't Love Me.

But Like Of Each Thing That In Season Grows.

For I Have Sworn Thee Fair, And Thought Thee Bright, Who Art As Black As Hell, As Dark As Night.

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

O, That This Too Too Solid Flesh Would Melt Thaw And Resolve Itself Into A Dew! Or That The Everlasting Had Not Fix'd His Canon 'gainst Self-slaughter! O God! God! How Weary, Stale, Flat And Unprofitable, (135) Seem To Me All The Uses Of This World! Fie On't! Ah Fie! 'tis An Unweeded Garden, That Grows To Seed; Things Rank And Gross In Nature Possess It Merely. That It Should Come To This! But Two Months Dead: Nay, Not So Much, Not Two: (140) So Excellent A King; That Was, To This.

Don Pedro Come, Lady, Come; You Have Lost The Heart Of Signior Benedick. Beatrice Indeed, My Lord, He Lent It Me Awhile; And I Gave Him Use For It, A Double Heart For His Single One: Marry, Once Before He Won It Of Me With False Dice, Therefore Your Grace May Well Say I Have Lost It. Don Pedro You Have Put Him Down, Lady, You Have Put Him Down. Beatrice So I Would Not He Should Do Me, My Lord, Lest I Should Prove The Mother Of Fools.

Canst Thou, O Partial Sleep, Give Thy Repose To The Wet Sea-boy In An Hour So Rude, And In The Calmest And Most Stillest Night, With All Appliances And Means To Boot, Deny It To A King?

For Now I Stand As One Upon A Rock Environed With A Wilderness Of Sea, Who Marks The Waxing Tide Grow Wave By Wave, Expecting Ever When Some Envious Surge Will In His Brinish Bowels Swallow Him.

He Is The Most Wretched Of Men Who Has Never Felt Adversity.

Superfluity Comes Sooner By White Hairs, But Competency Lives Longer.

The Sweat Of Industry Would Dry And Die, But For The End It Works To.

But O, How Bitter A Thing It Is To Look Into Happiness Through Another Man's Eyes.

Of All Complexions The Culled Sovereignty Do Meet, As At A Fair, In Her Fair Cheek, Where Several Worthies Make One Dignity, Where Nothing Wants That Want Itself Doth Seek.

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

Till Our King Henry Had Shook Hands With Death.

O, A Kiss Long As My Exile, Sweet As My Revenge! Now, By The Jealous Queen Of Heaven, That Kiss I Carried From Thee, Dear, And My True Lip Hath Virgined It E'er Since.

Would The Cook Were O' My Mind!

And A Man's Life's No More Than To Say "one."

Good Wombs Have Borne Bad Sons." -- (miranda, I:2)

O That My Tongue Were In The Thunder's Mouth! Then With Passion Would I Shake The World, And Rouse From Sleep That Fell Anatomy Which Cannot Hear A Lady's Feeble Voice, Which Scorns A Modern Invocation.

This Fellow Is Wise Enough To Play The Fool; And To Do That Well Craves A Kind Of Wit: He Must Observe Their Mood On Whom He Jests, The Quality Of Persons, And The Time, And, Like The Haggard, Check At Every Feather That Comes Before His Eye. This Is A Practise As Full Of Labour As A Wise Man's Art For Folly That He Wisely Shows Is Fit; But Wise Men, Folly-fall'n, Quite Taint Their Wit.

We Fail! But Screw Your Courage To The Sticking-place, And We'll Not Fail.

Man, Proud Man, Drest In A Little Brief Authority, Most Ignorant Of What He's Most Assur D, Glassy Essence, Like An Angry Ape, Plays Such Fantastic Tricks Before High Heaven, As Make The Angels Weep.

Truly Thou Art Damned, Like An Ill-roasted Egg, All On One Side.

No, I Will Be The Pattern Of All Patience; I Will Say Nothing.

Faith, I Have Been A Truant In The Law And Never Yet Could Frame My Will To It, And Therefore Frame The Law Unto My Will.

Striving To Better, Oft We Mar What’s Well.

That Which Is Now A Horse, Even With A Thought The Rack Dislimms, And Makes It Indistinct As Water Is In Water

Adversity Makes Strange Bedfellows.

Strange Bedfellows

If I Profane With My Unworthiest Hand This Holy Shrine, The Gentle Fine Is This: My Lips, Two Blushing Pilgrims, Ready Stand To Smooth That Rough Touch With A Tender Kiss.

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.

. . . It Is Impossible You Should Take True Root But By The Fair Weather That You Make Yourself It Is Needful That You Frame The Season Of Your Own Harvest.

I Am Your Wife If You Will Marry Me. If Not, I'll Die Your Maid. To Be Your Fellow You May Deny Me, But I'll Be Your Servant Whether You Will Or No.

Temptation: The Fiend At My Elbow.

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

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

Still It Cried ‘sleep No More!’ To All The House: ‘glamis Hath Murder’d Sleep, And Therefore Cawdor Shall Sleep No More,—macbeth Shall Sleep No More!

Do Not Cast Away An Honest Man For A Villain's Accusation.

Good Morrow, Fair Ones; Pray You, If You Know, Where In The Purlieus Of This Forest Stands A Sheep-cote Fenc'd About With Olive Trees?

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.

Tomorrow, And Tomorrow, And Tomorrow,creeps In This Petty Pace From Day To Day

Futility Of Life

Do You Bite Your Thumb At Us, Sir?

Romeo And Juliet Love

Truth Needs No Color; Beauty, No Pencil.

Where Is Polonius? Hamlet In Heaven. Send Hither To See. If Your Messenger Find Him Not There, Seek Him I' Th' Other Place Yourself. But If Indeed You Find Him Not Within This Month, You Shall Nose Him As You Go Up The Stairs Into The Lobby.

Our Wills And Fates Do So Contrary Run, That Our Devices Still Are Overthrown; Our Thoughts Are Ours, Their Ends None Of Our Own.

Free From Gross Passion Or Of Mirth Or Anger

No Stony Bulwark Can Resist The Love, And Love Dares What Anyone Can Love.

All Offences Come From The Heart.

The Thing Of Courage As Rous'd With Rage Doth Sympathise, And, With An Accent Tun'd In Self-same Key, Retorts To Chiding Fortune.

A Maiden Hath No Tongue--but Thought.

Vice Repeated Is Like The Wandering Wind, Blows Dust In Others' Eyes To Spread Itself.

Highly Fed And Lowly Taught.

See, What A Ready Tongue Suspicion Hath! He That But Fears The Thing He Would Not Know, Hath, By Instinct, Knowledge From Others' Eyes, That What He Feared Is Chanced.

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

A Man I Am Cross'd With Adversity.

Speak Me Fair In Death.

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

The Liquid Drops Of Tears That You Have Shed Shall Come Again, Transform'd To Orient Pearl, Advantaging Their Loan With Interest Of Ten Times Double Gain Of Happiness.

Tis Safter To Be That Which We Destroy Than By Destruction Dwell In Doubtful Joy.

Important Macbeth

To Die: - To Sleep: No More; And, By A Sleep To Say We End The Heart-ache And The Thousand Natural Shocks That Flesh Is Heir To, 'tis A Consummation Devoutly To Be Wished.

Appetite, A Universal Wolf.

So Quick Bright Things Come To Confusion.

She Is A Woman, Therefore To Be Won.

Speak Comfortable Words.

Foul Deeds Will Rise, Though All The Earth O'erwhelm Them, To Men's Eyes.

So Well Thy Words Become Thee As Thy Wounds.

Abandon All Remorse; On Horror's Head Horrors Accumulate.

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.

He Hath Not Eat Paper, As It Were; He Hath Not Drunk Ink; His Intellect Is Not Replenished; He Is Only An Animal, Only Sensible In The Duller Parts. (shakespeare, Love's Labor's Lost, Iv)

Tired With All These For Restful Death I Cry, As To Behold Desert A Beggar Born, And Needy Nothing Trimmed In Jollity, And Purest Faith Unhappily Forsworn.

If Music Be The Food Of Love, Play On.

All That Glitters Is Not Gold; Often Have You Heard That Told: Many A Man His Life Has Sold But My Outside To Behold: Gilded Tombs Do Worms Enfold Had You Been As Wise As Bold, Your In Limbs, In Judgment Old, Your Answer Had Not Been In'scroll'd Fare You Well: Your Suit Is Cold.' Cold, Indeed, And Labour Lost: Then, Farewell, Heat And Welcome, Frost!

The Sands Are Number'd That Make Up My Life; Here Must I Stay, And Here My Life Must End.

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

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

I Had Rather Be A Kitten And Cry Mew Than One Of These Same Metre Ballet-mongers.

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

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

Thou And I Are Too Wise To Woo Peaceably.

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.'

Rest You Fair, Good Signior; Your Worship Was The Last Man In Our Mouths.

Men That Make Envy And Crooked Malice Nourishment, Dare Bite The Best.

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?

Wilt Thou Whip Thine Own Faults In Other Men?

Behold The Threaden Sails, Borne With The Invisible And Creeping Wind, Draw The Huge Bottoms Through The Furrow'd Sea, Breasting The Lofty Surge

Ignorance Is The Curse Of God; Knowledge Is The Wing Wherewith We Fly To Heaven.

Love Is Merely A Madness.

On The Bat’s Back I Do Fly After Summer Merrily.

O Lord That Lends Me Life, Lend Me A Heart Replete With Thankfulness!

It Provokes The Desire, But It Takes Away The Performance

Cannot You Tell That? Every Fool Can Tell That. It Was The Very Day That Young Hamlet Was Born, He That Is Mad And Sent Into England." "ay, Marry, Why Was He Sent Into England?" "why, Because He Was Mad. He Shall Recover His Wits There, Or, If He Do Not, It's No Great Matter There." "why?" "'twill Not Be Seen In Him There. There The Men Are As Mad As He.

Look, How This Ring Encompasseth Thy Finger, Even So Thy Breast Encloseth My Poor Heart; Wear Both Of Them, For Both Of Them Are Thine.

Abate The Edge Of Traitors, Gracious Lord, That Would Reduce These Bloody Days Again And Make Poor England Weep In Streams Of Blood! Let Them Not Live To Taste This Land's Increase That Would With Treason Wound This Fair Land's Peace! Now Civil Wounds Are Stopped, Peace Lives Again: That She May Long Live Here, God Say Amen!

Well, Every One Can Master A Grief But He That Has It.

Who Seeks, And Will Not Take, When Once 'tis Offer'd, Shall Never Find It More.

New Opportunity

Plenty And Peace Breed Cowards; Hardness Ever Of Hardiness Is Mother.

The Sun With One Eye Vieweth All The World.

I Will Not Choose What Many Men Desire, Because I Will Not Jump With Common Spirits And Rank Me With The Barbarous Multitudes.

Come Unto These Yellow Sands, And Then Take Hands. Curtsied When You Have And Kissed The Wild Waves Whist, Foot Is Featly Here And There; And, Sweet Sprites, The Burden Bear. Ariel's Song, Scene Ii, Act I

I Say, Without Characters, Fame Lives Long.

A Victory Is Twice Itself When The Achiever Brings Home Full Numbers.

O, Full Of Scorpions Is My Mind!

As Soon Go Kindle Fire With Snow, As Seek To Quench The Fire Of Love With Words.

So Loving To My Mother, That He Might Not Beteem The Winds Of Heaven, Visit Her Face' Too Roughly.

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

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

It Is A Heretic That Makes The Fire, Not She Which Burns In It.

Positive Atheism

He That Wants Money, Means, And Content Is Without Three Good Friends.

Daffodils, That Come Before The Swallow Dares, And Take The Winds Of March With Beauty.

Your Bait Of Falsehood Takes This Carp Of Truth, And Thus Do We Of Wisdom And Of Reach, With Windlasses And With Assays Of Bias, By Indirections Find Directions Out.

In Persons Grafted In A Serious Trust, Negligence Is A Crime.

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

Then Let Thy Love Be Younger Than Thyself, Or Thy Affection Cannot Hold The Bent.

Marriage Is A Matter Of More Worth Than To Be Dealt In By Attorneyship.

From This Time Forth My Thoughts Be Bloody, Or Be Nothing Worth!

Hamlet And Ophelia

Important Hamlet

How Is It That The Clouds Still Hang On You?

Hamlet And Ophelia

This Fell Sergeant, Death, Is Strict In His Arrest.

There's A Time For All Things.

Time Is The King Of Men.

Time Travels At Different Speeds For Different People. I Can Tell You Who Time Strolls For, Who It Trots For, Who It Gallops For, And Who It Stops Cold For.

Knavery's Plain Face Is Never Seen Till Used.

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.

Many A True Word Hath Been Spoken In Jest.

One Pain Is Lessened By Another's Anguish.

O For A Muse Of Fire, That Would Ascend The Brightest Heaven Of Invention, A Kingdom For A Stage, Princes To Act And Monarchs To Behold The Swelling Scene!

It Is Not Night When I Do See Your Face.

Tired With All These, For Restful Death I Cry.

Strong Reasons Make Strong Actions.

Get Thee To A Nunnery.

Fruits That Blossom First Will First Be Ripe.

I Have Almost Forgotten The Taste Of Fears: The Time Has Been, My Senses Would Have Cool’d To Hear A Night-shriek; And My Fell Of Hair Would At A Dismal Treatise Rouse And Stir As Life Were In’t: I Have Supt Full With Horrors; Direness, Familiar To My Slaughterous Thoughts, Cannot Once Start Me.

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.

Since Mine Own Doors Refuse To Entertain Me, I'll Knock Elsewhere, To See If They'll Disdain Me

Thou Weigh'st Thy Words Before Thou Givest Them Breath.

Merciful Heaven, Thou Rather With Thy Sharp And Sulphurous Bolt Splits The Unwedgeable And Gnarled Oak Than The Soft Myrtle; But Man, Proud Man, Dressed In A Little Brief Authority, Most Ignorant Of What He's Most Assured His Glassy Essence--like An Angry Ape Plays Such Fantastic Tricks Before High Heaven As Makes The Angels Weep; Who, With Our Spleens, Would All Themselves Laugh Mortal.

And His Unkindness May Defeat My Life, But Never Taint My Love.

Passion Lends Them Power, Time Means To Meet, Tempering Extremities With Extremes Sweet.

My Cousin's A Fool, And Thou Art Another.

Two Women Placed Together Makes Cold Weather.

What Is Your Substance, Whereof Are You Made, That Millions Of Strange Shadows On You Tend? Since Everyone Hath Every One, One Shade, And You, But One, Can Every Shadow Lend. Describe Adonis, And The Counterfeit Is Poorly Imitated After You. On Helen’s Cheek All Art Of Beauty Set, And You In Grecian Tires Are Painted New. Speak Of The Spring And Foison Of The Year; The One Doth Shadow Of Your Beauty Show, The Other As Your Bounty Doth Appear, And You In Every Blessèd Shape We Know. In All External Grace You Have Some Part, But You Like None, None You, For Constant Heart.

The First Thing We Do, Let's Kill All The Lawyers.

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

Death Of A Friend

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

That Is Honor's Scorn Which Challenges Itself As Honor's Born And Is Not Like The Sire. Honors Thrive When Rather From Our Acts We Them Derive Than Our Foregoers.

You Are A Lover. Borrow Cupid's Wings And Soar With Them Above A Common Bound.

Romeo And Juliet Love

I Am One, My Liege, Whom The Vile Blows And Buffets Of The World Have So Incensed That I Am Reckless What I Do To Spite The World.

If The Boy Have Not A Woman's Gift To Rain A Shower Of Commanded Tears, An Onion Will Do Well For Such A Shift.

'twas Merry When You Wagered On Your Angling, When Your Diver Did Hang A Salt Fish On His Hook, Which He With Fervency Drew Up.

Since I Do Purpose To Marry, I Will Think Nothing To Any Purpose That The World Can Say Against It; And Therefore Never Floutat Me For What I Have Said Against It; For Man Is A Giddy Thing, And This Is My Conclusion.

We Waste Our Lights In Vain, Like Lamps By Day.

My Father's Wit, And My Mother's Tongue, Assist Me!

The Very Instant I Saw You, Did My Heart Fly To Your Service; There Resides To Make Me Slave To It. ...mine Unworthiness, That Dare Not Offer What I Desire To Give, And Much Less Take What I Shall Die To Want.

If Reasons Were As Plentiful As Blackberries, I Would Give No Man A Reason Upon Compulsion.

Reputation Is An Idle And Most False Imposition; Oft Got Without Merit, And Lost Without Deserving.

Put Forth Thy Hand, Reach At The Glorious Gold.

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

I Have Heard It Said There Is An Art Which In Their Piedness Shares With Great Creating Nature.

The Gloomy Shade Of Death.

Love, Which Teacheth Me That Thou And I Am One

There's Hope A Great Man's Memory May Outlive His Life Half A Year.

Don't Trust The Person Who Has Broken Faith Once.

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

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.

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.

Shall Remain! Hear You This Triton Of The Minnows? Mark You His Absolute 'shall'?

I, Measuring His Affections By My Own, Which Then Most Sought Where Most Might Not Be Found, Being One Too Many By My Weary Self, Pursued My Humor Not Pursuing His, And Gladly Shunned Who Gladly Fled From Me.

Conceit In Weakest Bodies Works The Strongest.

France Is A Dog-hole, And It No More Merits The Tread Of A Man's Foot.

Would I Were Dead, If God's Good Will Were So, For What Is In This World But Grief And Woe?

I Am Wrapped In Dismal Thinking.

In The Night, Imagining Some Fear, How Easy Is A Bush Supposed A Bear!

Under The Colour Of Commending Him I Have Access My Own Love To Prefer; But Silvia Is Too Fair, Too True, Too Holy, To Be Corrupted With My Worthless Gifts.

Madness In Great Ones Must Not Unwatched Go.

You Dull Ass Will Not Mend His Pace With Beating.

Prepare For Mirth, For Mirth Becomes A Feast.

God Send Everyone Their Heart's Desire!

Tis In Ourselves That We Are Thus Or Thus. Our Bodies Are Our Gardens To The Which Our Wills Are Gardeners.

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