“Infirm of purpose! Give me the daggers: the sleeping and the dead are but as pictures: ‘tis the eye of childhood that fears a painted devil” - Macbeth
Читать полностью…“I should think this a gull, but that the white-bearded fellow speaks it knavery cannot, sure, hide himself in such reverence.” - Much Ado About Nothing
Читать полностью…“Lord Polonius: What do you read, my lord?
Hamlet: Words, words, words.
Lord Polonius: What is the matter, my lord?
Hamlet: Between who?
Lord Polonius: I mean, the matter that you read, my lord.” - Hamlet
“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.” - Hamlet
“Before, I loved thee as a brother, John,
But now, I do respect thee as my soul.” - King Henry IV, Part 1
“O sleep, O gentle sleep, Nature's soft nurse, how have I frightened thee. That thou no more will weigh my eyelids down, And steep my senses in forgetfulness?” - Henry IV, Part 2
Читать полностью…“When Rosencrantz asks Hamlet, "Good my lord, what is your cause of distemper? You do surely bar the door upon your own liberty, if you deny your grief to your friends"(III, ii, 844-846), Hamlet responds, "Why, look you now, how unworthy a thing you make of me! You would play upon me you would seem to know my stops you would pluck from my lowest note to the top of my compass and there is much music, excellent voice, in this little organ, yet cannot you make it speak. 'Sblood, do you think I am easier to be played on than a pipe? Call me what instrument you will, though you can fret me, you cannot play upon me." (III,ii, 371-380)” - Hamlet
Читать полностью…“No deeper wrinkles yet?
Hath sorrow struck
So many blows upon this face of mine
And made no deeper wounds?” - Richard II
“No beast so fierce but knows some touch of pity. But I know none, and therefore am no beast.” - Richard III
Читать полностью…“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 Midsummer Night's Dream
“in the night, imagining some fear,
How easy is a bush supposed a bear!” - A Midsummer Night's Dream
“I will do anything ... ere I'll be married to a sponge.” - The Merchant of Venice
Читать полностью…“the time of life is short
To spend that shortness basely were too long.” - King Henry IV, Part 1
“But, indeed, words are very rascals, since bonds [vows] disgraced them."
Viola: "Thy reason, man?"
Feste: "Troth [Truthfully], sir, I can yield you none without words, and words are grown so false, I am loathe to prove reason with them.” - Twelfth Night
“Sweet are the uses of adversity,
Which, like the toad, ugly and venomous,
Wears yet a precious jewel in his head
And this our life, exempt from public haunt,
Finds tongues in trees, books in the running brooks,
Sermons in stones, and good in every thing.” - As You Like It
“Yet who would have thought the old man to have had so much blood in him? - Lady Macbeth” - Macbeth
Читать полностью…“Live, and be prosperous: and farewell, good fellow. Juliet! ...O my love! my wife!
Death, that hath sucked the honey of thy breath, Hath had no power yet upon thy beauty: Thou art not conquered beauty's ensign yet Is crimson in thy lips and in thy cheeks, And death's pale flag is not advanced there. Tybalt, liest thou there in thy bloody sheet? O, what more favor can I do to thee, Than with that hand that cut thy youth in twain To sunder his that was thine enemy? Forgive me, cousin! Ah, dear Juliet, Why art thou yet so fair? shall I believe That unsubstantial death is amorous, And that the lean abhorred monster keeps Thee here in dark to be his paramour? For fear of that, I still will stay with thee And never from this palace of dim night Depart again: here, here will I remain With worms that are thy chamber-maids...Eyes, look your last. Arms, take your last embrace. and, lips, O you The doors of breath, seal with a righteous kiss
A dateless bargain to engrossing death... Here's to my love!...Thus with a kiss I die.”
“Sonnet 23
As an unperfect actor on the stage,
Who with his fear is put besides his part,
Or some fierce thing replete with too much rage,
Whose strength's abundance weakens his own heart
So I, for fear of trust, forget to say
The perfect ceremony of love's rite,
And in mine own love's strength seem to decay,
O'ercharg'd with burden of mine own love's might.
O, let my books be then the eloquence
And dumb presagers of my speaking breast
Who plead for love, and look for recompense,
More than that tongue that more hath more express'd.
O, learn to read what silent love hath writ:
To hear with eyes belongs to love's fine wit.” - Sonnets