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What Early Tongue So Sweet Saluteth Me? Young Son, It Argues A Distemper'd Head So Soon To Bid Good Morrow To Thy Bed: Care Keeps His Watch In Every Old Man's Eye, And Where Care Lodges, Sleep Will Never Lie; But Where Unbruised Youth With Unstuff'd Brain Doth Couch His Limbs, There Golden Sleep Doth Reign.

-William Shakespeare

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What Early Tongue So

William Shakespeare

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What Early Tongue So Sweet Saluteth Me? Young Son, It Argues A Distemper'd Head So Soon To Bid Good Morrow To Thy Bed: Care Keeps His Watch In Every Old Man's Eye, And Where Care Lodges, Sleep Will Never Lie; But Where Unbruised Youth With Unstuff'd Brain Doth Couch His Limbs, There Golden Sleep Doth Reign.

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More From William Shakespeare

I Am Not In The Giving Vein Today.

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.

Is This A Dagger Which I See Before Me, The Handle Toward My Hand? Come, Let Me Clutch Thee. I Have Thee Not, And Yet I See Thee Still. Art Thou Not, Fatal Vision, Sensible To Feeling As To Sight? Or Art Thou But A Dagger Of The Mind, A False Creation, Proceeding From The Heat-oppressed Brain?

Fill All Thy Bones With Aches.

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

One Fire Burns Out Another's Burning, One Pain Is Lessen'd By Another's Anguish.

O, I Do Not Like That Paying Back, 'tis A Double Labor.

So Long As Men Can Breathe, Or Eyes Can See, So Long Lives This, And This Gives Life To Thee.

O, It Is Excellent To Have A Giant's Strength; But It Is Tyrannous To Use It Like A Giant.

Best Men Oft Are Moulded Out Of Faults.

It Is The Stars, The Stars Above Us, Govern Our Conditions.

There Is A History In All Men's Lives.

Nothing Emboldens Sin So Much As Mercy.

Dumb Jewels Often, In Their Silent Kind, More Than Quick Words, Do Move A Woman's Mind.

As Many Arrows, Loosed Several Ways, Come To One Mark...so Many A Thousand Actions, Once Afoot, End In One Purpose.

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.

I Could Be Well Content To Entertain The Lag-end Of My Life With Quiet Hours.

Can One Desire Too Much Of A Good Thing?

I Am Not Prone To Weeping As Our Sex Commonly Are; The Want Of Which Vain Dew Perchance Shall Dry Your Pities; But I Have That Honorable Grief Lodged Here Which Burns Worse Than Tears Drown.

Yet, For I Know Thou Art Religious And Hast A Thing Within Thee Called Conscience, With Twenty Popish Tricks And Ceremonies Which I Have Seen Thee Careful To Observe, Therefore I Urge Thy Oath; For That I Know An Idiot Holds His Bauble For A God And Keeps The Oath Which By That God He Swears, To That I'll Urge Him: Therefore Thou Shalt Vow By That Same God, What God Soe'er It Be, That Thou Adorest And Hast In Reverence, To Save My Boy, To Nourish And Bring Him Up, Or Else I Will Discover Naught To Thee.

Ha. "against My Will I Am Sent To Bid You Come Into Dinner." There's A Double Meaning In That. -benedick (much Ado)

They Say Best Men Are Molded Out Of Faults, And, For The Most, Become Much More The Better For Being A Little Bad

The Violence Of Either Grief Or Joy, Their Own Enactures With Themselves Destroy.

We Have Some Salt Of Our Youth In Us.

Glendower: I Can Call The Spirits From The Vasty Deep. Hotspur: Why, So Can I, Or So Can Any Man; But Will They Come, When You Do Call For Them?

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.

[s]ince Brevity Is The Soul Of Wit, And Tediousness The Limbs And Outward Flourishes, I Will Be Brief.

Important Hamlet

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.

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

What Else May Hap, To Time I Will Commit.

Thou Whoreson Zed! Thou Unnecessary Letter! My Lord, If You Will Give Me Leave, I Will Tread This Unbolted Villain Into Mortar, And Daub The Wall Of A Jakes With Him. *all Cheer For Shakespearean Insults*

For I Am Proverbed With A Grandsire Phrase.

Gentle And Low, An Excellent Thing In Woman.

All That Glisters Is Not Gold; Often Have You Heard That Told: Many A Man His Life Hath Sold But My Outside To Behold: Gilded Tombs Do Worms Enfold.

The Commonwealth Of Athens Is Become A Forest Of Beasts.

O Constancy, Be Strong Upon My Side, Set A Huge Mountain 'tween My Heart And Tongue! I Have A Man's Mind, But A Woman's Might.

Beauty Lives With Kindness.

With Mirth And Laughter Let Old Wrinkles Come. And Let My Liver Rather Heat With Wine, Than My Heart Cool With Mortifying Groans.

Is She Kind As She Is Fair?

No Matter Where; Of Comfort No Man Speak: 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

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

I Charge Thee, Hence, And Do Not Haunt Me Thus.

I Have Heard Of Your Paintings Too, Well Enough; God Has Given You One Face, And You Make Yourselves Another.

For I Can Raise No Money By Vile Means. By Heaven, I Had Rather Coin My Heart, And Drop My Blood For Drachmas

Lions Make Leopards Tame.

"fair, Kind, And True" Is All My Argument, "fair, Kind, And True" Varying To Other Words; And In This Change Is My Invention Spent, Three Themes In One, Which Wondrous Scope Affords.

By A Divine Instinct, Men's Minds Mistrust Ensuing Danger; As, By Proof, We See The Waters Swell Before A Boisterous Storm.

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.

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

I Do Repent; But Heaven Hath Pleas'd It So To Punish Me With This, And This With Me, That I Must Be Their Scourge And Minister. I Will Bestow Him, And Will Answer Well The Death I Gave Him. So Again Good Night. I Must Be Cruel Only To Be Kind. Thus Bad Begins And Worse Remains Behind.

Why, All Delights Are Vain, But That Most Vain Which, With Pain Purchased, Doth Inherit Pain: As, Painfully To Pore Upon A Book, To Seek The Light Of Truth, Which Truth The While Doth Falsely Blind The Eyesight Of His Look.

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

The Force Of His Own Merit Makes His Way-a Gift That Heaven Gives For Him.

Suit The Action To The Word : The Word To The Action : With This Special Observance That You O'erstep Not The Modesty Of Nature.

Adieu, Adieu, Adieu! Remember Me.

Milk-livered Man, That Bear'st A Cheek For Blows, A Head For Wrongs; Who Hast Not In Thy Brows An Eye Discerning Thine Honor From Thy Suffering; [that Not Know'st Fools Do Those Villains Pity Who Are Punished Ere They Have Done Their Mischief. Where's Thy Drum? France Spreads His Banners In Our Noiseless Land, With Plumed Helm Thy State Begins To Threat, Whilst Thou, A Moral Fool, Sits Still And Cries 'alack, Why Does He So?']

There Is A World Elsewhere.

If I Be Waspish, Best Beware My Sting.

Who Is So Firm That Can't Be Seduced?

So Our Virtues Lie In The Interpretation Of The Time

Beware The Ides Of March.

Thou Hast Most Traitorously Corrupted The Youth Of The Realm In Erecting A Grammar School.

Where Souls Do Couch On Flowers We'll Hand In Hand.

Men Should Be What They Seem; Or Those That Be Not, Would They Might Seem None!.

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

You Draw Me, You Hard-hearted Adamant; But Yet You Draw Not Iron, For My Heart Is True As Steel: Leave You Your Power To Draw, And I Shall Have No Power To Follow You.

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.

I Was Born Free As Caesar; So Were You

Fight, Gentlemen Of England! Fight, Bold Yeomen! Draw, Archers, Draw Your Arrows To The Head! Spur Your Proud Horses Hard, And Ride In Blood; Amaze The Welkin With Your Broken Staves!

This Fellow Pecks Up Wit, As Pigeons Peas; And Utters It Again When God Doth Please: He Is Wit's Pedler; And Retails His Wares.

Be As Thou Wast Wont To Be. See As Thou Wast Wont To See.

Extremity Is The Trier Of Spirits.

However Wickedness Outstrips Men, It Has No Wings To Fly From God.

For They Are Yet Ear-kissing Arguments.

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

Small Herbs Have Grace, Great Weeds Do Grow Apace.

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

Be As Just And Gracious Unto Me, As I Am Confident And Kind To Thee.

Take All The Swift Advantage Of The Hours.

Lady, You Are The Cruel'st She Alive If You Will Lead These Graces To The Grave And Leave The World No Copy.

No, Cassius; For The Eye Sees Not Itself, But By Reflection, By Some Other Things.

The Quality Of Nothing Hath Not Such Need To Hide Itself

A Wretched Soul, Bruised With Adversity, We Bid Be Quiet When We Hear It Cry. But Were We Burd'ned With Like Weight Of Pain, As Much Or More We Should Ourselves Complain: So Thou, That Hast No Unkind Mate To Grieve Thee, With Urging Helpless Patience Wouldst Relieve Me; But If Thou Live To See Like Right Bereft, This Fool-begged Patience In Thee Will Be Left.

The Rose Looks Fair, But Fairer We It Deem For That Sweet Odour Which Doth In It Live.

I Love A Ballad In Print O' Life, For Then We Are Sure They Are True.

Women Speak Two Languages - One Of Which Is Verbal.

Come, Seeling Night, Scarf Up The Tender Eye Of Pitiful Day, And With Thy Bloody And Invisible Hand Cancel And Tear To Pieces That Great Bond Which Keeps Me Pale. Light Thickens, And The Crow Makes Wing To Th' Rooky Wood. Good Things Of Day Begin To Droop And Drowse, While Night's Black Agents To Their Prey Do Rouse.

Don't Waste Your Love On Somebody, Who Doesn't Value It.

Good Fortune Then! To Make Me Blest Or Cursed'st Among Men.

But Let The Frame Of Things Disjoint, Both The Worlds Suffer, Ere We Will Eat Our Meal In Fear, And Sleep In The Affliction Of These Terrible Dreams That Shake Us Nightly.

Sorrow Breaks Seasons And Reposing Hours, Makes The Night Morning, And The Noontide Night.

Orpheus With His Lute Made Trees, And The Mountain Tops That Freeze, Bow Themselves, When He Did Sing; To His Music, Plants And Flowers Ever Sprung; As Sun And Showers There Had Made A Lasting Spring. Every Thing That Heard Him Play, Even The Billows Of The Sea, Hung Their Heads, And Then Lay By. In Sweet Music Is Such Art, Killing Care And Grief Of Heart Fall Asleep, Or Hearing, Die.

We Are The Lords Of All Eternity

Fortune Brings In Some Boats That Are Not Steered.

Pray, Do Not Mock Me. I Am A Very Foolish Fond Old Man, Fourscore And Upward, Not An Hour More Nor Less; And, To Deal Plainly, I Fear I Am Not In My Perfect Mind.

Withal I Did Infer Your Lineaments, Being The Right Idea Of Your Father, Both In Your Form And Nobleness Of Mind; Laid Open All Your Victories In Scotland, Your Discipline In War, Wisdom In Peace, Your Bounty, Virtue, Fair Humility; Indeed, Left Nothing Fitting For Your Purpose Untouch'd Or Slightly Handled In Discourse.

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

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

I Have Seen Roses Damask'd, Red And White, But No Such Roses See I In Her Cheeks.

I Would Fain Die A Dry Death.

But Like Of Each Thing That In Season Grows.

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

A Great Perturbation In Nature, To Receive At Once The Benefit Of Sleep And Do The Effects Of Watching!

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

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

How Hard It Is For Women To Keep Counsel!

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

To Set A Gloss On Faint Deeds, Hollow Welcomes, Recanting Goodness, Sorry Ere 'tis Shown; But Where There Is True Friendship, There Needs None.

To Be Furious, Is To Be Frighted Out Of Fear.

I Begin To Find An Idle And Fond Bondage In The Oppression Of Aged Tyranny, Who Sways, Not As It Hath Power, But As It Is Suffered.

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

It Is Not Vain Glory For A Man And His Glass To Confer In His Own Chamber.

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

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

To Sue To Live, I Find I Seek To Die; And, Seeking Death, Find Life: Let It Come On.

I Find My Zenith Doth Depend Upon A Most Auspicious Star, Whose Influence If Now I Court Not, But Omit, My Fortunes Will Ever After Droop.

Their Understanding Begins To Swell And The Approaching Tide Will Shortly Fill The Reasonable Shores That Now Lie Foul And Muddy.

O That Men's Ears Should Be To Counsel Deaf But Not To Flattery!

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 Would There Were No Age Between Sixteen And Three-and-twenty, Or That Youth Would Sleep Out The Rest; For There Is Nothing In The Between But Getting Wenches With Child, Wronging The Ancientry, Stealing, Fighting

Fear Not, Cesario, Take Thy Fortunes Up. Be That Thou Know'st Thou Art And Then Thou Art As Great As That Thou Fear'st.

Thank Me No Thankings, Nor Proud Me No Prouds.

What, Keep A Week Away? Seven Days And Nights, Eightscore-eight Hours, And Lovers' Absent Hours More Tedious Than The Dial Eightscore Times! O Weary Reckoning!

I Shall Show The Cinders Of My Spirits Through The Ashes Of My Chance.

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

Tis Often Seen Adoption Strives With Nature; And Choice Breeds A Native Slip To Us From Foreign Lands.

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

I Am Sure, Though You Can Guess What Temperance Should Be, You Know Not What It Is.

The Apprehension Of The Good Gives But The Greater Feeling To The Worse.

The Breaking Of So Great A Thing Should Make A Greater Crack: The Round World Should Have Shook Lions Into Civil Streets, And Citizens To Their Dens.

Come, Swear It, Damn Thyself, Lest, Being Like One Of Heaven, The Devils Themselves Should Fear To Seize Thee; Therefore Be Double-damned, Swear,--thou Art Honest.

If Music Be The Food Of Love, Play On, Give Me Excess Of It; That Surfeiting, The Appetite May Sicken, And So Die.

Unrequited Love

And Send Him Many Years Of Sunshine Days!

A Violet In The Youth Of Primy Nature, Forward, Not Permanent--sweet, Not Lasting; The Perfume And Suppliance Of A Minute; No More.

Hamlet And Ophelia

I Will Be Master Of What Is Mine Own: She Is My Goods, My Chattels; She Is My House, My Household Stuff, My Field, My Barn, My Horse, My Ox, My Ass, My Any Thing.

Doubting Things Go Ill Often Hurts More Than To Be Sure They Do; For Certainties Either Are Past Remedies, Or, Timely Knowing, The Remedy Then Born.

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.

Thou Whoreson Zed! Thou Unnecessary Letter!

These Cardinals Trifle With Me; I Abhor; This Dilatory Sloth And Tricks Of Rome.

Love That We Cannot Have Is The One That Lasts The Longest,hurts The Deepest,but Feels The Strongest

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

These Earthly Godfathers Of Heaven's Lights, That Give A Name To Every Fixed Star, Have No More Profit Of Their Shining Nights Than Those That Walk And Know Not What They Are.

Sweet Are The Uses Of Adversity

What Cannot Be Saved When Fate Takes, Patience Her Injury A Mockery Makes

So Full Of Shapes Is Fancy

All Things Are Ready, If Our Mind Be So.

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

Wise Men Never Sit And Wail Their Loss, But Cheerily Seek How To Redress Their Harms.

So Well Thy Words Become Thee As Thy Wounds.

The Morning Steals Upon The Night, Melting The Darkness.

A Fool's Bolt Is Soon Shot.

I Stand For Judgment: Answer: Shall I Have It?

I Do The Wrong, And First Begin To Brawl. The Secret Mischiefs That I Set Abroach I Lay Unto The Grievous Charge Of Others.

O Fortune, Fortune! All Men Call Thee Fickle.

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!

Lovers Ever Run Before The Clock

All Dark And Comfortless.

If The Skin Were Parchment And The Blows You Gave Were Ink, Your Own Handwriting Would Tell You What I Think.

The Sense Of Death Is Most In Apprehension.

Measure For Measure

O, Beware, My Lord, Of Jealousy; It Is The Green-ey'd Monster, Which Doth Mock The Meat It Feeds On.

Let The Sap Of Reason Quench The Fire Of Passion.

Love Laughs At Locksmiths.

My Only Love Sprung From My Only Hate.

My Liege, And Madam, To Expostulate What Majesty Should Be, What Duty Is, Why Day Is Day, Night Night, And Time Is Time, Were Nothing But To Waste Night, Day And Time. Therefore, Since Brevity Is The Soul Of Wit, And Tediousness The Limbs And Outward Flourishes, I Will Be Brief.

It Warms The Very Sickness In My Heart, That I Shall Live And Tell Him To His Teeth, "thus Diddest Thou;"

She Cannot Love, Nor Take No Shape Nor Project Or Affection, She Is So Self-endeared

A Very Honest Woman But Something Given To Lie

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

Call Me What Instrument You Will, Though You Can Fret Me, You Cannot Play Upon Me.

Important Hamlet

A Politician... One That Would Circumvent God.

For Sweetest Things Turn Sourest By Their Deeds; Lillies That Fester Smell Far Worse Than Weeds.

Our Very Eyes Are Sometimes, Like Our Judgments, Blind.

The Coward Dies A Thousand Deaths, The Valiant, Only Once!

Beauty Is Bought By Judgement Of The Eye.

Beautiful Women

Grief Best Is Pleased With Grief's Society.

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

Examine Well Your Blood.

These Are The Forgeries Of Jealousy; And Never, Since The Middle Summer's Spring, Met We On Hill, In Dale, Forest, Or Mead, By Paved Fountain Or By Rushy Brook, Or In The Beached Margent Of The Sea, To Dance Our Ringlets To The Whistling Wind, But With Thy Brawls Thou Hast Disturbed Our Sport.

Love Is A Wonderful, Terrible Thing

Love And Meekness, Lord, Become A Churchman Better Than Ambition: Win Straying Souls With Modesty Again, Cast None Away.

There Is Little Choice In A Barrel Of Rotten Apples.

What Is Aught But As 'tis Valued?

The Hideous God Of War.

The Villany You Teach Me I Shall Execute; And It Shall Go Hard But I Will Better The Instruction.

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.

Omittance Is No Quittance.

For She Had Eyes And Chose Me.

Love And Jealousy

The Seasons Alter: Hoary-headed Frosts Fall In The Fresh Lap Of The Crimson Rose, And On Old Hiems' Thin And Icy Crown An Odorous Chaplet Of Sweet Summer Buds Is, As In Mockery, Set. The Spring, The Summer, The Childing Autumn, Angry Winter, Change Their Wonted Liveries, And The Mazed World, By Their Increase, Now Knows Not Which Is Which.

The Fear's As Bad As Falling.

An Overflow Of Good Converts To Bad.

To Business That We Love We Rise Betime, And Go To't With Delight.

And What’s He Then That Says I Play The Villain?

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

Macbeth: How Does Your Patient, Doctor? Doctor: Not So Sick, My Lord, As She Is Troubled With Thick-coming Fancies That Keep Her From Rest. Macbeth: Cure Her Of That! Canst Thou Not Minister To A Mind Diseased, Pluck From The Memory A Rooted Sorrow, Raze Out The Written Troubles Of The Brain, And With Some Sweet Oblivious Antidote Cleanse The Stuffed Bosom Of That Perilous Stuff Which Weighs Upon Her Heart. Doctor: Therein The Patient Must Minister To Himself.

Oft Have I Heard That Grief Softens The Mind And Makes It Fearful And Degenerate.

England Is Safe, If True Within Itself.

Love Hath Made Thee A Tame Snake

Love That Well Which Thou Must Leave Ere Long.

This World To Me Is Like A Lasting Storm,whirring Me From My Friends.

Sweet Love! Sweet Lines! Sweet Life! Here Is Her Hand, The Agent Of Her Heart; Here Is Her Oath For Love, Her Honour's Pawn

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