Home › By Play › Julius Caesar
Shakespeare Quotes from Julius Caesar
His silver hairs Will purchase us a good opinion, And buy men's voices to commend our deeds: It shall be said his judgment rul'd our hands; Our youths, and wildness, shall no whit appear, But all be buried in his gravity.— filed under Age
'Tis a common proof That lowliness is young ambition's ladder, Whereto the climber upward turns his face; But when he once attains the upmost round, He then unto the ladder turns his back, Looks in the clouds, scorning the base degrees By which he did ascend.— filed under Ambition
Ye gods, it doth amaze me, A man of such a feeble temper should So get the start of the majestic world, And bear the palm alone.— filed under Ambition
The noble Brutus Hath told you Cæsar was ambitious: If it were so, it was a grievous fault; And grievously hath Cæsar answered it.— filed under Ambition
O Cassius, you are yoked with a lamb That carries anger as the flint bears fire; Who, much enforced, shows a hasty spark,— filed under Anger
But anger has a privilege. By the gods You shall digest the venom of your spleen, Though it do split you: for, from this day forth, laughter, I'll use you for my mirth, yea, for my— filed under Anger
That skins the vice o' the top. I shall remember: When Cæsar says, -Do this, it is perform'd.— filed under Authority
That stretch their duties nicely. I am no orator as Brutus is: But, as you know me all, a plain blunt man, That love my friend; and that they know full well That gave me public leave to speak of him. For I have neither wit, nor words, nor worth, Action, nor utterance, nor the power of speech, To stir men's blood: I only speak right on.— filed under Bluntness
Shall we now Contaminate our fingers with base bribes? And sell the mighty space of our large honours, For so much trash as may be grasped thus? I had rather be a dog and bay the moon,— filed under Bribery
Than such a Roman. You yourself Are much condemn'd to have an itching palm; To sell and mart your offices for gold, To undeservers.— filed under Bribery
This was the noblest Roman of them all; All the conspirators, save only he, Did that they did in envy of great Cæsar; He, only, in a general honest thought, And common good to all, made one of them. His life was gentle; and the elements So mix'd in him, that Nature might stand up— filed under Brutus
Slaying is the word;— filed under Carnage
It is the bright day that brings forth the adder, And that craves wary walking.— filed under Caviller
Think him as a serpent's egg, Which, hatch'd, would, as his kind, grow mischievous; And kill him in the shell.— filed under Caviller
O conspiracy! Sham'st thou to show thy dangerous brow by night, When evils are most free? O, then, by day, Where wilt thou find a cavern dark enough To mask thy monstrous visage? Seek none, conspiracy, Hide it in smiles and affability: For if thou path thy native semblance on, Not Erebus itself were dim enough To hide thee from prevention.— filed under Conspiracy
But I am constant as the northern star, Of whose true fix'd, and vesting quality, There is no fellow in the firmament.— filed under Constancy
Now sit we close about the taper here, And call in question our necessities.— filed under Consultation
Safe, Anthony; Brutus is safe enough: I dare assure thee, that no enemy Shall ever take alive the noble Brutus: The gods defend him from so great a shame! When you do find him, or alive or dead, He will be found like Brutus, like himself.— filed under Ourage
Cowards die many times before their deaths: The valiant never taste of death but once.— filed under Coward
And yon grey lines that fret the clouds, Are messengers of day.— filed under Dawn
We must die, Messala: With meditating that she must die once,— filed under Death
That we shall die, we know; 'tis but the time,— filed under Death
And drawing days out, that men stand upon. Cowards die many times before their deaths; The valiant never taste of death but once. Of all the wonders that I yet have heard, It seems to me most strange that men should fear; Seeing that death, a necessary end, Will come when it will come.— filed under Death
JULIUS CÆSAR. - Et tu Brute? Then fall, Cæsar.— filed under Death
How many ages hence, Shall this our lofty scene be acted over,— filed under Death
Why, he that cuts off twenty years of life, Cuts off as many years of fearing death.— filed under Death
Defiance, traitors, hurl we in your teeth.— filed under Defiance
But, woe the while! our fathers' minds are dead, And we are govern'd by our mothers' spirits;— filed under Degeneracy
Indeed, it is a strange disposed time: But men may construe things after their fashion, Clean from the purpose of the things themselves.— filed under Delusion
O Desdemona! Our enemies have beat us to the pit: It is more worthy to leap in ourselves, Than tarry till they push us.— filed under Desperation
And bid me hold my peace. Cannot, is false; and that I dare not, falser; I will not come to-day: tell them so, Decius.— filed under Determination
My heart laments, that virtue cannot live Out of the teeth of emulation.— filed under Envy
O hateful error, melancholy's child! Why dost thou show to the apt thoughts of men The things that are not? O error, soon conceiv'd, Thou never com'st unto a happy birth,— filed under Fond
The eye sees not itself, But by reflection, by some other things.— filed under Eye
But yesterday, the word of Cæsar might Have stood against the world: now lies he there, And none so poor to do him reverence.— filed under Fallen Greatness
O mighty Cæsar! Dost thou lie so low ? Are all thy conquests, glories, triumphs, spoils, Shrunk to this little measure?— filed under Fallen Greatness
The evil that men do lives after them; The good is oft interred with their bones.— filed under Fame
If thou read this, O Cæsar, thou may'st live; If not, the fates with traitors do contrive.— filed under Fate
Men, at some times, are masters of their fates.— filed under Fate
If Cæsar hide himself, shall they not whisper, Lo, Cæsar is afraid?— filed under Fear
To this my fair belov'd. Countrymen! My heart doth joy, that yet, in all my life, I found no man but he was true to me.— filed under Fidelity
But when I tell him, he hates flatterers,— filed under Flattery
Fortune is merry, And in this mood will give us any thing.— filed under Fortune
Every man will be thy friend While thou hast wherewithal to spend; But if store of crowns be scant, No man will supply thy want. Poems. There are no tricks in plain and simple faith; But hollow men, like horses hot at hand, Make gallant show and promise of their mettle; But when they should endure the bloody spur, They fall their crests, and, like deceitful jades, Sink in the trial.— filed under Friend
Brutus hath riv'd my heart: A friend should bear his friend's infirmities,— filed under Friend
I have not from your eyes that gentleness, And show of love, as I was wont to have: You bear too stubborn, and too strange a hand,— filed under Friend
Over your friend that loves you. Thou hast describ'd A hot friend cooling: Ever note, Lucilius, When love begins to sicken and decay, It useth an enforced ceremony.— filed under Friend
O that a man might know— filed under Futurity
The ghost of Cæsar hath appear'd to me Two several times by night: at Sardis, once; And, this last night, here in Philippi fields. I know, my hour is come.— filed under Ghost
Why, man, he doth bestride the narrow world, Like a Colossus; and we petty men Walk under his huge legs, and peep about, To find ourselves dishonourable graves.— filed under Greatness
This man Is now become a god; and Cassius is A wretched creature, and must bend his body, If Cæsar carelessly but nod at him.— filed under Greatness
The abuse of greatness is, when it disjoins Remorse from power.— filed under Greatness
Like wonder-wounded hearers? Friend, I owe more tears— filed under Rief
I cannot tell, what you and other men Think of this life; but, for my single self, I had as lief not be, as live to be In awe of such a thing as I myself.— filed under Independence
He had a fever when he was in Spain, And, when the fit was on him, I did mark How he did shake: 'tis true, this god did shake: His coward lips did from their colours fly; And that same eye, whose bend doth awe the world, Did lose its lustre.— filed under Infirmity
Between the acting of a dreadful thing And the first motion, all the interim is Like a phantasma, or a hideous dream: The genius, and the mortal instruments, Are then in council; and the state of man, Like to a little kingdom, suffers then— filed under Intents And Acts
And of opposed natures. O judgment, thou art fled to brutish beasts, And men have lost their reason.— filed under Judgment, Justice
Would he were fatter: -But I fear him not:- Yet if my name were liable to fear, I do not know the man I should avoid So soon as that spare Cassius. He reads much; He is a great observer, and he looks Quite through the deeds of men; he loves no plays, As thou dost, Antony; he hears no music: Seldom he smiles; and smiles in such a sort, As if he mock'd himself, and scorn'd his spirit That could be mov'd to smile at any thing. Such men as he be never at heart's ease, Whiles they behold a greater than themselves;— filed under Lean Visage
This was the noblest Roman of them all: All the conspirators, save only he, Did that they did in envy of great Cæsar; He, only, in a general honest thought, And common good to all, made one of them. His life was gentle; and the elements So mix'd in him, that nature might stand up, And say to all the world, This was a man!— filed under Man
Free from the bondage you are in, Messala; The conquerors can but make a fire of him; For Brutus only overcame himself,— filed under Mighty Dead
And no man else hath honour by his death. According to his virtue let us use him, With all respect and rites of burial. Within my tent his bones to-night shall lie, Most like a soldier, order'd honourably.— filed under Mighty Dead
Brutus and Cæsar: what should be in that Cæsar? Why should that name be sounded more than yours? Write them together, yours is as fair a name; Sound them, it doth become the mouth as well; Weigh them, it is as heavy; conjure with them, Brutus will start a spirit as soon as Cæsar. Now in the names of all the gods at once, Upon what meat doth this our Cæsar feed, That he is grown so great.— filed under Name
Seek him, Titinius; whilst I go to meet The noble Brutus, thrusting this report Into his ears: I may say, thrusting it; For piercing steel, and darts envenomed, Shall be as welcome to the ears of Brutus, As tidings of this sight.— filed under News
I have seen tempests, when the scolding winds— filed under Oak
Nor the unsuppressive metal of our spirits, To think, that, or our cause, or our performance, Did need an oath; when every drop of blood, That every Roman bears, and nobly bears, Is guilty of a several bastardy, If he do break the smallest particle— filed under Jaths
like a leather jerkin. OPPORTUNITY (See also DELAY, IRRESOLUTION, NEGLECT).. There is a tide in the affairs of men, Which, taken at the flood, leads on to fortune; * Omitted, all the voyage of their life Is bound in shallows, and in miseries. On such a full sea are we now afloat; And we must take the current when it serves, Or lose out ventures.— filed under Opinion
And whether we shall meet again, I know not. Therefore, our everlasting farewell take :- For ever, and for ever, farewell, Cassius! If ever we do meet again, why we shall smile; If not, why then this parting was well made.— filed under Farting
If it be aught toward the general good, Set honour in one eye, and death i' the other, And I will look on both indifferently: For, let the gods so speed me, as I love The name of honour, more than I fear death.— filed under Patriotism
I am the son of Marcus Cato, ho! A foe to tyrants and my country's friend.— filed under Patriotism
There was a Brutus once, that would have brook'd The eternal devil to keep his state in Rome, As easily as a king.— filed under Patriotism
Of your philosophy you make no use, If you give place to accidental evils.— filed under Phantasy
The dint of pity.— filed under Pity
Our remedies oft in ourselves do lie, Which we ascribe to heaven: the fated sky Gives us free scope; only, doth backward pull Our slow designs, when we ourselves are dull. A. W. i. 1. Men at some time are masters of their fates: The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars, But in ourselves, that we are underlings.— filed under Planetary Influence
If the tag-rag people did not clap him, and hiss him, according as he pleased, and displeased them, as they use to— filed under Popularity
do the players in the theatre, I am no true man. J.C. i. 2. Marry, before he fell down when he perceived the common herd was glad he refused the crown, he plucked me ope his doublet, and offered them his throat to cut. An I had been a man of any occupation, if I would not have taken him at his word, I would I might go to hell, among the rogues; and so he fell. When he came to himself again, he said, If he had done, or said, anything amiss, he desired their worships to think it was his infirmity. Three or four wenches, where I stood, cried, Alas, good soul, -and forgave him with all their hearts.— filed under Popularity
Warnings, and portents, and evils ominous.— filed under Portents
As plates dropp'd from his pocket. The abuse of greatness is, when it disjoins— filed under Power
Plainly denouncing vengeance upon John. Fierce fiery warriors fight upon the clouds, In ranks, and squadrons, and right form of war, Which drizzled blood upon the capitol: The noise of battle hurtled in the air, Horses did neigh, and dying men did groan.— filed under Prodigies
When beggars die, there are no comets seen; The heavens themselves blaze forth the death of princes.— filed under Prodigies
Now let it work: Mischief, thou art afoot, Take thou what course thou wilt.— filed under Rebellion
Cæsar's spirit, ranging for revenge, With Até by his side, come hot from hell, Shall, in these confines, with a monarch's voice,— filed under Revenge
If Cæsar hide himself, shall they not whisper, Lo, Cæsar is afraid ?— filed under Seclusion
The deep of night is crept upon our talk, And Nature must obey necessity.— filed under Sleep
Fast asleep? It is no matter; Enjoy the honey-heavy dew of slumber; Thou hast no figures, nor no fantasies, Which busy care draws in the brains of men; Therefore thou sleep'st so sound.— filed under Sleep
When time shall serve, there shall be smiles. Some, that smile, have in their hearts, I fear, Millions of mischief.— filed under Smiles
And lose the name of action. Even by the rule of that philosophy, By which I did blame Cato for the death Which he did give himself:-I know not how, But I do find it cowardly and vile, For fear of what might fall, so to prevent The time of life:-arming myself with patience, To stay the providence of some high powers, That govern us below.— filed under Suicide
even Christian. My desolation does begin to make A better life: 'Tis paltry to be Cæsar; Not being Fortune, he's but Fortune's knave, A minister of her will: And it is great To do that thing which ends all other deeds; Which shackles accidents, and bolts up change. A. C. v. 2 Nor stony tower, nor walls of beaten brass, Nor airless dungeon, nor strong links of iron, Can be retentive to the strength of spirit; But life, being weary of these worldly bars, Never lacks power to dismiss itself.— filed under Suicide
Every bondman in his own hand bears The power to cancel his captivity.— filed under Suicide
Your words, they rob the Hybla bees, And leave them honeyless.— filed under Sweetness
Upon the word, Accoutred as I was, I plunged in, And bade him follow: so, indeed, he did. The torrent roared; and we did buffet it With lusty sinews; throwing it aside And stemming it with hearts of controversy.— filed under Swimming
By heaven, I had rather coin my heart, And drop my blood by drachmas, than to wring From the hard hands of peasants their vile trash, By any indirection.— filed under Taxation
Thy heart is big; get thee apart and weep, Passion, I see, is catching; for mine eyes, Seeing those beads of sorrow stand in thine,— filed under Tears
Friends, I owe more tears,— filed under Tears
Are not you mov'd, when all the sway of earth Shakes, like a thing unfirm ? O Cicero! I have seen tempests, when the scolding winds Have riv'd the knotty oaks; and I have seen Th' ambitious ocean swell, and rage, and foam, To be exalted with the threatening clouds; But never till to night, never till now, Did I go through a tempest dropping fire. Either there is a civil strife in heaven; Or else the world, too saucy with the gods,— filed under Tempest
It is a creature that I teach to fight, To wind, to stop, to run directly on; His corporal motion govern'd by my spirit. And, in some taste, is Lepidus but so; He must be taught, and train'd, and bid go forth; A barren-spirited fellow; one that feeds On objects, arts, and imitations; Which, out of use, and stal'd by other men, Begin his fashion: Do not talk of him,— filed under Tool
But as a property. This is a slight unmeritable man, Meet to be sent on errands.— filed under Tool
Octavius, I have seen more days than you; And though we lay these honours on this man, To ease ourselves of divers slanderous loads, He shall but bear them as the ass bears gold To groan and sweat under the business, Either led or driven, as we point the way; And having brought our treasure where we will, Then take we down his load, and turn him off, Like to the empty ass, to shake his ears, And graze in commons.— filed under Tool
Till now you have gone on, and fill'd the time With all licentious measure, making your wills The scope of justice; till now, myself, and such As slept within the shadow of your power, Have wander'd with our travers'd arms, and breath'd Our sufferance vainly. T.A.v.5 And why should Cæsar be a tyrant then? Poor man! I know he would not be a wolf, But that he sees the Romans are but sheep; He were no lion, were not Romans hinds. Those that with haste would make a migthy fire, Begin it with weak straws: What trash is Rome, What rubbish, and what offal, when it serves, For the base matter to illuminate So vile a thing as Cæsar?— filed under Tyrant
I will not touch a bit. Let but the commons hear this testament, (Which, pardon me, I do not mean to read,) And they would go and kiss dead Cæsar's wounds, And dip their napkins in his sacred blood Yea, beg a hair of him for memory, And, dying, mention it within their wills, Bequeathing it, as a rich legacy,— filed under Veneration
Due to the Moor, my lord. Within the bond of marriage, tell me, Brutus, Is it excepted, I should know no secrets That appertain to you? Am I yourself But, as it were, on sort, or limitation; To keep with you at meals, comfort your bed, And talk to you sometimes? Dwell I but in the suburbs Of your good pleasure? If it be no more, Portia is Brutus' harlot, not his wife.— filed under Wife
The queen of earthly queens. You are my true and honourable wife; As dear to me, as are the ruddy drops,— filed under Wife
That visit my sad heart. O, ye gods, Render me worthy of this noble wife !— filed under Wife
I grant I am a woman; but, withal, A woman that lord Brutus took to wife; I grant I am a woman; but, withal, A woman well reputed; Cato's daughter. Think you, I am no stronger than my sex, Being so father'd and so husbanded?— filed under Wife
Fetch the will hither, and we shall determine How to cut off some charge in legacies.— filed under Will
Ah me! how weak a thing— filed under Woman
And tire the hearer with a book of words. Good words are better than bad strokes.— filed under Words
The evil that men do lives after them; The good is oft interred with their bones.— filed under World