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What Hands Are Here? Ha! They Pluck Out Mine Eyes! Will All Great Neptune’s Ocean Wash This Blood Clean From My Hand? No; This My Hand Will Rather The Multitudinous Seas Incarnadine, Making The Green One Red.” “my Hands Are Of Your Colour; But I Shame To Wear A Heart So White. A Little Water Clears Us Of This Deed: How Easy It Is Then! Your Constancy Hath Left You Unattended.

-William Shakespeare

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What Hands Are Here?

William Shakespeare

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What Hands Are Here? Ha! They Pluck Out Mine Eyes! Will All Great Neptune’s Ocean Wash This Blood Clean From My Hand? No; This My Hand Will Rather The Multitudinous Seas Incarnadine, Making The Green One Red.” “my Hands Are Of Your Colour; But I Shame To Wear A Heart So White. A Little Water Clears Us Of This Deed: How Easy It Is Then! Your Constancy Hath Left You Unattended.

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My Love Is Deep; The More I Give To Thee, The More I Have, Both Are Infinite.

The Pleasant'st Angling Is To See The Fish Cut With Her Golden Oars The Silver Stream And Greedily Devour The Treacherous Bait.

The Will Is Deaf And Hears No Heedful Friends.

Women Are Angels, Wooing: Things Won Are Done; Joy's Soul Lies In The Doing: That She Beloved Knows Naught, That Knows Not This-- Men Prize The Thing Ungained More Than It Is.

'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.

Till All Grace Be In One Woman, One Woman Shall Not Come In My Grace.

My Crown Is In My Heart, Not On My Head; Not Decked With Diamonds And Indian Stones, Nor To Be Seen: My Crown Is Called Content, A Crown It Is That Seldom Kings Enjoy.

I Am Not Only Witty In Myself, But The Cause That Wit Is In Other Men.

Thou Hast Her, France; Let Her Be Thine, For We Have No Such Daughter, Nor Shall Ever See That Face Of Hers Again. Therefore Be Gone Without Our Grace, Our Love, Our Benison.

Look What Thy Soul Holds Dear, Imagine It To Lie That Way Thou Goest, Not Whence Thou Com'st. Suppose The Singing Birds Musicians, The Grass Whereon Thou Tread'st The Presence Strewed, The Flowers Fair Ladies, And Thy Steps No More Than A Delight Measure Or A Dance; For Gnarling Sorrow Hath Less Power To Bite The Man That Mocks At It And Sets It Light.

Never; He Will Not: Age Cannot Wither Her, Nor Custom Stale Her Infinite Variety: Other Women Cloy The Appetites They Feed: But She Makes Hungry Where Most She Satisfies.

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?

Keep Thy Foot Out Of Brothels, Thy Hand Out Of Plackets, Thy Pen From Lender's Books, And Defy The Foul Fiend.

Will You Walk Out Of The Air, My Lord? Hamlet Into My Grave.

The Ides Of March Are Come. Soothsayer: Ay, Caesar; But Not Gone.

I Hold My Peace, Sir? No; No, I Will Speak As Liberal As The North; Let Heaven And Men And Devils, Let Them All, All, All, Cry Shame Against Me, Yet I'll Speak.

They Say, The Tongues Of Dying Men Enforce Attention, Like Deep Harmony; Where Words Are Scarce, They're Seldom Spent In Vain; For They Breathe Truth, That Breathe Their Words In Pain.

Thou Hast Nor Youth Nor Age But As It Were An After Dinner Sleep Dreaming Of Both.

Which Means She To Deceive, Father Or Mother?

The Ostentation Of Our Love, Which, Left Unshown, Is Often Left Unloved.

Make Not Your Thoughts Your Prisons.

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.

Things Without All Remedy Should Be Without Regard: What's Done Is Done.

Better Conquest Never Canst Thou Make Than Arm Thy Constant And Thy Nobler Parts Against Giddy, Loose Suggestions.

Love's Gentle Spring Doth Always Fresh Remain.

Heaven Truly Knows That Thou Art False As Hell.

And She's Fair I Love.

O! For A Muse Of Fire, That Would Ascend The Brightest Heaven Of Invention.

Your Wisdom Is Consum'd In Confidence. Do Not Go Forth To-day.

Women Speak Two Languages - One Of Which Is Verbal.

... And Death Unloads Thee.

Love For Thy Love , And Hand For Hand I Give.

A Man May Fish With The Worm That Hath Eat Of A King, And Eat Of The Fish That Hath Fed Of That Worm

Crack'd In Pieces By Malignant Death.

You Shall More Command With Years Than With Your Weapons.

Every Good Servant Does Not All Commands.

He That Dies Pays All Debts.

I Speak Of Peace, While Covert Enmity Under The Smile Of Safety Wounds The World

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

It Is The Disease Of Not Listening...... That I Am Troubled With.

You Are Not Worth The Dust Which The Rude Wind Blows In Your Face.

Men's Faults Do Seldom To Themselves Appear.

An Honest Tale Speeds Best Being Plainly Told.

He Is White-livered And Red-faced.

Crowns Have Their Compass-length Of Days Their Date- Triumphs Their Tomb-felicity, Her Fate- Of Nought But Earth Can Earth Make Us Partaker, But Knowledge Makes A King Most Like His Maker.

To Die, Is To Be Banish'd From Myself; And Silvia Is Myself: Banish'd From Her, Is Self From Self: A Deadly Banishment! What Light Is Light, If Silvia Be Not Seen? What Joy Is Joy, If Silvia Be Not By? Unless It Be To Think That She Is By, And Feed Upon The Shadow Of Perfection. Except I Be By Silvia In The Night, There Is No Music In The Nightingale; Unless I Look On Silvia In The Day, There Is No Day For Me To Look Upon; She Is My Essence, And I Leave To Be, If I Be Not By Her Fair Influence Foster'd, Illumin'd, Cherish'd, Kept Alive.

This Was The Noblest Roman Of Them All. All The Conspirators, Save Only He,did That They Did In Envy Of Caesar;he Only, In A General Honest Thoughtand Common Good To All, Made One Of Them. His Life Was Gentle, And The Elementsso Mixd In Him That Nature Might Stand Upand Say To All The World, This Was A Man!

I Have A Bone To Pick With Fate

Up And Down, Up And Down I Will Lead Them Up And Down I Am Feared In Field In Town Goblin, Lead Them Up And Down

A Virtuous And A Christianlike Conclusion-- To Pray For Them That Have Done Scathe To Us.

I Love A Ballad But Even Too Well If It Be Doleful Matter Merrily Set Down, Or A Very Pleasant Thing Indeed And Sung Lamentably.

How Sharper Than A Serpent's Tooth It Is To Have A Thankless Child!

Yet This My Comfort: When Your Words Are Done, My Woes End Likewise With The Evening Sun.

Kent. Where's The King? Gent. Contending With The Fretful Elements; Bids The Wind Blow The Earth Into The Sea, Or Swell The Curled Waters 'bove The Main, That Things Might Change Or Cease; Tears His White Hair, Which The Impetuous Blasts, With Eyeless Rage, Catch In Their Fury And Make Nothing Of; Strives In His Little World Of Man To Outscorn The To-and-fro-conflicting Wind And Rain. This Night, Wherein The Cub-drawn Bear Would Couch, The Lion And The Belly-pinched Wolf Keep Their Fur Dry, Unbonneted He Runs, And Bids What Will Take All.

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

Eye Of Newt, And Toe Of Frog, Wool Of Bat, And Tongue Of Dog, Adder's Fork, And Blind-worm's Sting, Lizard's Leg, And Owlet's Wing, For A Charm Of Powerful Trouble, Like A Hell-broth Boil And Bubble.

The Art Of Our Necessities Is Strange That Can Make Vile Things Precious.

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

All Difficulties Are Easy When They Are Known.

Speak The Speech, I Pray You, As I Pronounced It To You-trippingly On The Tongue; But If You Mouth It, As Many Of Your Players Do, I Had As Lief The Town-crier Spoke My Lines. Nor Do Not Saw The Air Too Much With Your Hand, Thus, But Use All Gently; For In The Very Torrent, Tempest, And As I May Say, The Whirlwind Of Your Passion, You Must Acquire And Beget A Temperance That May Give It Smoothness.

If I Had My Mouth, I Would Bite; If I Had My Liberty, I Would Do My Liking. In The Meantime, Let Me Be That I Am, And Seek Not Toalter Me.

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

Like One Who Having Into Truth, By Telling Of It, Made Such A Sinner Of His Memory, To Credit His Own Lie.

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

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

Better A Little Chiding Than A Great Deal Of Heartbreak.

The Common Curse Of Mankind, Folly And Ignorance, Be Thine In Great Revenue!

Woe, Destruction, Ruin, And Decay; The Worst Is Death And Death Will Have His Day.

Fat Paunches Have Lean Pates, And Dainty Bits Make Rich The Ribs, But Backrout Quite The Wits.

Unbidden Guests Are Often Welcomest When They Are Gone.

All Is Well Ended If This Suit Be Won. That You Express Content; Which We Will Pay, With Strife To Please You, Day Exceeding Day.

The Due Of Honor In No Point Omit.

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

Life's Uncertain Voyage.

If Thou Dost Marry, I'll Give Thee This Plague For Thy Dowry: Be Thou As Chaste As Ice, As Pure As Snow, Thou Shalt Not Escape Calumny.

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

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

Give Me A Bowl Of Wine, In This I Bury All Unkindness.

At Christmas, I No More Desire A Rose.

O How Wretched Is That Poor Man That Hangs On Princes Favors! There Is Betwixt That Smile We Would Aspire To, That Sweet Aspect Of Princes, And Their Ruin, More Pangs And Fears Than Wars Or Women Have, And When He Falls, He Falls Like Lucifer, Never To Hope Again.

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.

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

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Romeo And Juliet Love

There's Never A Villain Dwelling In All Denmark But He's An Arrant Knave.

A Hundred Thousand Welcomes: I Could Weep, And I Could Laugh; I Am Light And Heavy: Welcome.

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

Life Every Man Holds Dear; But The Dear Man Holds Honor Far More Precious Dear Than Life.

These Times Of Woe Afford No Time To Woo.

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, If You Love Me, As I Think You Do, Let's Kiss And Part, For We Have Much To Do

Where Art Thou, Muse, That Thou Forget'st So Long / To Speak Of That Which Gives Thee All Thy Might?

Some Are Born Great, Some Achieve Greatness, And Some Have Greatness Thrust Upon Them.

All Impediments In Fancy's Course Are Motives Of More Fancy.

I Am Now Of All Humors That Have Showed Themselves Humors Since The Old Days Of Goodman Adam To The Pupil Age Of This Present Twelve O'clock At Midnight.

And Do As Adversaries Do In Law, Strive Mightily, But Eat And Drink As Friends.

My Dull Brain Was Wrought With Things Forgotten.

The Object Of Art Is To Give Life A Shape.

When A Wise Man Gives Thee Better Counsel, Give Me Mine Again.

I Pray You, In Your Letters, When You Shall These Unlucky Deeds Relate, Speak Of Me As I Am; Nothing Extenuate, Nor Set Down Aught In Malice. Then Must You Speak Of One That Loved Not Wisely But Too Well; Of One Not Easily Jealous, But Being Wrought, Perplexed In The Extreme. . .

Can I Go Forward When My Heart Is Here? Turn Back, Dull Earth, And Find Thy Centre Out.

It Is That Fery Person For All The Orld, As Just As You Will Desire; And Seven Hundred Pounds Of Moneys, And Gold, And Silver, Is Her Grandsire Upon His Death's-bed-got Deliver To A Joyful Resurrections!

Love Is Merely A Madness, And, I Tell You, Deserves As Well A Dark House And A Whip As Madmen Do.

Besides, Our Nearness To The King In Love Is Near The Hate Of Those Love Not The King.

I Am Bewitched With The Rogue's Company. If The Rascal Have Not Given Me Medicines To Make Me Love Him, I'll Be Hanged.

Though Patience Be A Tired Mare, Yet She Will Plod.

To Wilful Men, The Injuries That They Themselves Procure Must Be Their Schoolmasters.

If [god] Send Me No Husband, For The Which Blessing I Am At Him Upon My Knees Every Morning And Evening.

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

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

Barnes Are Blessings.

Short Summers Lightly Have A Forward Spring.

Wisdom And Fortune Combating Together, If That The Former Dare But What It Can, No Chance May Shake It.

Death, As The Psalmist Saith, Is Certain To All, All Shall Die.

And Will He Not Come Again? And Will He Not Come Again? No, No, He Is Dead. Go To Thy Deathbed. He Never Will Come Again.

Covering Discretion With A Coat Of Folly.

Trust Not My Reading, Nor My Observations, Which With Experimental Seal Do Warrant The Tenor Of My Book.

Keep Time! How Sour Sweet Music Is When Time Is Broke And No Proportion Kept! So Is It In The Music Of Men's Lives. I Wasted Time And Now Doth Time Waste Me.

Can We Outrun The Heavens?

I Do I Know Not What, And Fear To Find Mine Eye Too Great A Flatterer For My Mind. Fate, Show Thy Force. Ourselves We Do Not Owe. What Is Decreed Must Be; And Be This So.

When The Sea Was Calm All Ships Alike Showed Mastership In Floating.

Let Me Have War, Say I; It Exceeds Peace As Far As Day Does Night; It's Spritely, Waking, Audible, And Full Of Vent.

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

Tremble, Thou Wretch, That Hast Within Thee Undivulged Crimes Unwhipped Of Justice.

Let Me Confess That We Two Must Be Twain, Although Our Undivided Loves Are One.

'tis One Thing To Be Tempted, Another Thing To Fall.

Done To Death By Slanderous Tongue

Wish Chastely, And Love Dearly.

The Weary Sun Hath Made A Golden Set And By The Bright Tract Of His Fiery Car Gives Token Of A Goodly Day To-morrow.

Nay, I Am The Very Pink Of Courtesy.

Romeo And Juliet Play

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

This Blessed Plot, This Earth, This Realm, This England.

Precious Stones

Paradise On Earth

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

Full Many A Glorious Morn I Have Seen Flatter The Mountain-tops With Sovereign Eye, Kissing With Golden Face The Meadows Green, Gilding Pale Streams With Heavenly Alchemy.

To Be Slow In Words Is A Woman's Only Virtue.

And The More Pity That Great Folk Should Have Count'nance In This World To Drown Or Hang Themselves More Than Their Even-christen.

Get Thee To A Nunnery.

It Is Not, Nor It Cannot, Come To Good, But Break, My Heart, For I Must Hold My Tongue.

Hamlet And Ophelia

There's Nothing Ill Can Dwell In Such A Temple. If The Ill Spirit Have So Fair A House, Good Things Will Strive To Dwell With't

In The Modesty Of Fearful Duty, I Read As Much As From The Rattling Tongue Of Saucy And Audacious Eloquence.

How Hard It Is For Women To Keep Counsel!

In Time The Savage Bull Doth Bear The Yoke.

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.

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

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

Death Of A Friend

That You Were Once Unkind Befriends Me Now, And For That Sorrow, Which I Then Did Feel, Needs Must I Under My Transgression Bow, Unless My Nerves Were Brass Or Hammered Steel.

What If This Cursed Hand Were Thicker Than Itself With Brother's Blood Is There Not Rain Enough In The Sweet Heaves To Wash It White As Snow?

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?

Thus Did I Keep My Person Fresh And New, My Presence, Like A Robe Pontifical, Ne'er Seen But Wondered At, And So My State, Seldom But Sumptuous, Showed Like A Feast.

O, My Offence Is Rank, It Smells To Heaven

My Love Is As A Fever, Longing Still.

Hardness Ever Of Hardness Is Mother.

Boundless Intemperance In Nature Is A Tyranny. It Hath Been Th' Untimely Emptying Of The Happy Throne And Fall Of Many Kings.

If Thou Remeber'st Not The Slightest Folly That Ever Love Did Make Thee Run Into, Thou Hast Not Lov'd

Thou Speak'st Like Him's Untutored To Repeat: Who Makes The Fairest Show Means Most Deceit.

For In That Sleep Of Death What Dreams May Come.

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.

What Ugly Sights Of Death Within Mine Eyes!

I Go, I Go, Look How I Go, Swifter Than An Arrow From A Bow

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.

All Gold And Silver Rather Turn To Dirt, An 'tis No Better Reckoned But Of These Who Worship Dirty Gods.

There's Little Of The Melancholy Element In Her, My Lord: She Is Never Sad But When She Sleeps; And Not Ever Sad Then; For I Have Heard My Daughter Say, She Hath Often Dreamt Of Unhappiness, And Waked Herself With Laughing.

It Is Lost At Dice, What Ancient Honor Won.

I Always Thought It Was Both Impious And Unnatural That Such Immanity And Bloody Strife Should Reign Among Professors Of One Faith.

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

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

Death Where Is Thy Sting? Love, Where Is Thy Glory?

A Blind Man Can't Forget The Eyesight He Lost, Show Me Any Beautiful Girl. How Can Her Beauty Not Remind Me Of The One Whose Beauty Surpasses Hers?

Tis Mad Idolatry To Make The Service Greater Than The God.

Men Prize The Thing Ungained More Than It Is.

But I Will Wear My Heart Upon My Sleeve For Daws To Peck At: I Am Not What I Am.

So Fair And Foul A Day I Had Not Seen.

He Jests At Scars That Never Felt A Wound.

Wounds And Scars

Romeo And Juliet Love

The Language I Have Learnt These Forty Years, My Native English, Now I Must Forgo; And Now My Tongue's Use Is To Me No More Than An Unstringed Viol Or A Harp, Or Like A Cunning Instrument Cased Up Or, Being Open, Put Into His Hands That Knows No Touch To Tune The Harmony.

The Tempter Or The Tempted, Who Sins Most?

Measure For Measure

A Man Cannot Make Him Laugh; But That's No Marvel; He Drinks No Wine.... If I Had A Thousand Sons, The First Human Principle I Would Teach Them Should Be, To Forswear Thin Potations And To Addict Themselves To Sack.

Nimble Thought Can Jump Both Sea And Land.

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!

Leave Us To Our Free Election.

A Whoreson Jackanapes Must Take Me Up For Swearing; As If I Borrowed Mine Oaths Of Him And Might Not Spend Them At My Pleasure. When A Gentleman Is Disposed To Swear, It Is Not For Any Standers-by To Curtail His Oaths, Ha?

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

Love Comforteth Like Sunshine After Rain, But Lust's Effect Is Tempest After Sun; Love's Gentle Spring Doth Always Fresh Remain, Lust's Winter Comes Ere Summer Half Be Done; Love Surfeits Not, Lust Like A Glutton Dies; Love Is All Truth, Lust Full Of Forged Lies.

Oh, I Have Passed A Miserable Night, So Full Of Ugly Sights, Of Ghastly Dreams!

Self-love, My Liege, Is Not So Vile A Sin, As Self-neglecting.

It Is Held That Valor Is The Chiefest Virtue, And Most Dignifies The Haver.

By Jove, I Am Not Covetous For Gold, Nor Care I Who Doth Feed Upon My Cost; It Yearns Me Not If Me My Garments Wear; Such Outward Things Dwell Not In My Desires: But If It Be A Sin To Covet Honor, I Am The Most Offending Soul Alive.

Refrain To-night; And That Shall Lend A Kind Of Easiness To The Next Abstinence, The Next More Easy; For Use Almost Can Change The Stamp Of Nature, And Either Master The Devil Or Throw Him Out With Wondrous Potency.

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

What A Terrible Era In Which Idiots Govern The Blind.

Take But Degree Away, Untune That String, And Hark, What Discord Follows!

For By His Face Straight Shall You Know His Heart.

Friendship Is Constant In All Other Things Save In The Office And Affairs Of Love. Therefore All Hearts In Love Use Their Own Tongues. Let Every Eye Negotiate For Itself, And Trust No Agent; For Beauty Is A Witch Against Whose Charms Faith Melteth Into Blood.

Sin, That Amends, Is But Patched With Virtue.

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

O, Where Is Loyalty? If It Be Banished From The Frosty Head, Where Shall It Find A Harbor In The Earth?

Virtue Is Chok'd With Foul Ambition

One Man In His Time Plays Many Parts.

Do As The Heavens Have Done, Forget Your Evil; With Them Forgive Yourself.

Now Entertain Conjecture Of A Time When Creeping Murmur And The Poring Dark Fills The Wide Vessel Of The Universe.

When I Waked, I Cried To Dream Again

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