Quotes, Quotations and Sayings

In a false quarrel there is no true valour.

A wretched soul, bruised with adversity, We bid be quiet when we hear it cry But were we burdened with like weight of pain, As much or more we should ourselves complain.

What stronger breastplate than a heart untainted. [Henry Iv]

People usually are the happiest at home.

Our doubts are traitors and make us lose the good we might win, by fearing to attempt.[Measure For Measure]

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.

This above all to thine own self be true.

The course of true love never did run smooth.

Since it is the Other within us who is old, it is natural that the revelation of our age should come to us from outside --from others. We do not accept it willingly.

I am wealthy in my friends.

Shakespeare, Leonardo Da Vinci, Benjamin Franklin, and Lincoln never saw a movie, heard a radio, or looked at a TV They had loneliness and knew what to do with it. They were not afraid of being lonely because they knew that was when the creative mood in them would mark.

Out, damned spot out, I say

Et tu, Brute

Et tu, Brute!

O, I am slain!

Thought is free.

We burn daylight.

Words pay no debts.

It was Greek to me.

Bow, stubborn knees!

Remembrance of things past.

Action is eloquence.

Much Ado About Nothing,

What is past is prologue.

Patch grief with proverbs.

Frailty, thy name is woman!

Men's vows are women's traitors!

Journeys end in lovers meeting.

But thy eternal summer shall not fade.

Every why has a wherefore.

Love all, but trust a few.

Love is merely a maddness.

Talkers are no good doers.

What's done can't be undone.

A plague o' both your houses

"Tis neither here nor there.

Beware of the ides of March.

Nothing can come of nothing.

The best safety lies in fear.

He that dies pays all debts.

Parting is such sweet sorrow.

The object of art is to give life a shape. [Midsummer Nights Dream]

Out, damned spot! out, I say!

There was a star danced, and under that was I born.

Fill all thy bones with aches.

In delay there lies no plenty.

Report me and my cause aright.

Soft pity enters an iron gate.

So full of artless jealousy is guilt,It spills itself in fearing to be spilt.

I try to give to the poor people for love what the rich could get for money. No, I wouldn't touch a leper for a thousand pounds; yet I willingly cure him for the love of God.