Every human feeling, answered by Shakespeare: an 1892 dictionary that files the Bard's best lines under the passions they express — from Ambition to Woe.
113 passages from Dictionary of Shakespearian Quotations (1892), each filed under the passion it answers.
Remember who you are to cope withal ;- : sort A sort of vagabonds, rascals, and run-aways, of vagabonds, rascals, and run-aways, A scum of Bretagnes, and base lackey peasants, Whom their Whom their o'er-cloy'd country vomits forth 1 desperate ventures, and assur'd destruction.— filed under Army
Cousin, thou wast not wont to be so dull.— filed under Backwardness
God keep the prince from all the pack of you! A knot you are of damned blood-suckers.— filed under Badness
Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more: Or close the wall up with our English dead! In peace, there's nothing so becomes a man, As modest stillness and humility: But when the blast of war blows in our ears, Then imitate the action of the tyger; Stiffen the sinews, summon up the blood, Disguise fair nature with hard-favour'd rage: Then lend the eye a terrible aspéct: Let it pry through the portals of the head, Like the brass cannon; let the brow o'erwhelm it As fearfully as doth the galled rock O'er-hang and jutty his confounded base, Swill'd with the wild and wasteful ocean. Now set the teeth and stretch the nostrils wide, Hold hard the breath, and bend up every spirit To his full height! On, on, you noble English. H. V. ii. 1 A thousand hearts are great within my bosom : Advance our standards; set upon our foes! Our ancient word of courage, fair St. George, Inspires us with the spleen of fiery dragons!— filed under Battle
Upon them! Fight, gentlemen of England; fight boldly, yeomen. Draw, archers, draw your arrows to the head. Spur your proud horses hard, and ride in blood :— filed under Battle
That fought with us upon St. Crispin's day. For the love of all the gods, Let's leave the hermit pity with our mothers; And when we have our armours buckled on, The venom'd vengeance ride upon our swords. T. C. v. 3 Let's whip these stragglers o'er the seas again; Lash hence these over-weening rags of France, These famish'd beggars, weary of their lives; Who, but for dreaming on this fond exploit, For want of means, poor rats, had hang'd themselves.— filed under Battle
And make me die a good old man ! That is the butt end of a mother's blessing; I marvel that her grace did leave it out.— filed under Benediction
Tut, tut, thou art all ice; thy kindness freezes.— filed under Coldness
I'll not meddle with it, it is a dangerous thing, it makes a man a coward; a man cannot steal, but it accuseth him; a man cannot swear, but it checks him; a man cannot lie with a neighbour's wife, but it detects him: 'Tis a blushing shame-fac'd spirit, that mutinies in a man's bosom; it fills one full of obstacles: it made me once restore a purse of gold, that by chance I found; it beggars any man that keeps it; it is turned out of all towns and cities for a dangerous thing.— filed under Conscience
My conscience hath a thousand several tongues, And every tongue brings in a several tale; And every tale condemns me for a villain.— filed under Conscience
Soft; I did but dream, O, coward conscience, how dost thou affright me!— filed under Conscience, Guilty
Let not our babbling dreams affright our souls; Conscience is but a word that cowards use, Devis'd at first, to keep me strong in awe.— filed under Conscience, Guilty
Slave, I have set my life upon a cast And I will stand the hazard of the die.— filed under Ourage
Go then, my mother, to your daughter go; Make bold her bashful ears with your experience; Prepare her ears to hear a wooer's tale.— filed under Courtship
Was ever woman in this humour woo'd? Was ever woman in this humour won?— filed under Courtship
The silent hour steals on, And flaky darkness breaks within the east.— filed under Dawn
So now prosperity begins to mellow, And drop into the rotten mouth of death,— filed under Death
Who builds his hope in air of your fair looks, Lives like a drunken sailor on a mast.— filed under Deceit
But I, that am not shap'd for sportive tricks, Nor made to court an amorous looking glass, I that am rudely stampt, and want love's majesty, To strut before a wanton ambling nymph; I, that am curtail'd of this fair proportion, Cheated of feature by dissembling nature, Deform'd, unfinish'd, sent before my time Into this breathing world, scarce half made up, And that so lamely and unfashionable, That dogs bark at me as I halt by them:- Why I, in this weak piping time of peace, Have no delight to pass away the time, Unless to spy my shadow in the sun,— filed under Deformity
The world is grown so bad, That wrens may prey where eagles dare not perch; Since every Jack became a gentleman,— filed under Degeneracy
Sir, in delay We waste our lights in vain, like lamps by day. R. J. i. 4.. Come, I have learn'd that fearful commenting Is leaden servitor to dull delay; Delay leads impotent and snail-pac'd beggary.— filed under Delay
I shall despair. - There is no creature loves me; And, if I die, no soul will pity me;- Nay, wherefore should they? since that I myself Find in myself no pity to myself.— filed under Despair
No longer for my flatterer. I have not that alacrity of spirit Nor cheer of mind that I was wont to have.— filed under Despondency
Let not our babbling dreams affright our souls. R. III. V.— filed under Dreams
My dukedom to a beggarly denier, I do mistake my person all this while: Upon my life, she finds, although I cannot, Myself to be a marvellous proper man. I'll be at charges for a looking-glass; And entertain a score or two of tailors, To study fashions to adorn my body. Since I am crept in favour with myself, I will maintain it with some little cost.— filed under Dress
Lord! methought what pain it was to drown! What dreadful noise of water in my ears! What sights of ugly death within mine eyes! Methought I saw a thousand fearful wrecks; A thousand men that fishes gnaw'd upon.— filed under Drowning
To yield the ghost; but still the envious flood Kept in my soul, and would not let it forth To seek the empty, vast, and wand'ring air : But smother'd it within my panting bulk, Which almost burst to belch it in the sea.— filed under Drowning
Where is thy husband now? where be thy brothers? Where be thy two sons? wherein dost thou joy? Who sues, and kneels, and says-God save the queen ? Where be the bending peers that flatter'd thee? Where be the thronging troops that follow'd thee? Decline all this, and see what now thou art.— filed under Fallen Greatness
Death makes no conquest of this conqueror; For now he lives in fame, though not in life.— filed under Fame
Flattery's the bellows blows up sin. Because I cannot flatter, and speak fair, Smile in men's faces, smooth, deceive, and cog, Duck with French nods and apish courtesy,— filed under Flattery
Since you will buckle Fortune on my back, To bear her burden, whe'r I will or no, I must have patience to endure the load.— filed under Fortune
Now do I play the touch, To try if thou be current gold indeed.— filed under Friend
I am not in the giving vein to day.— filed under Gifts
Know'st thou not any whom corrupting gold Would tempt into a close exploit of death?— filed under Gold
I know a discontented gentleman, Whose humble means match not his haughty mind: Gold were as good as twenty orators, And will, no doubt, tempt him to any thing. R. III.— filed under Gold
A grandam's name is little less in love, Than is the doating title of a mother; They are as children, but one step below; Even of your mettle, of your very blood.— filed under Grandam
All of us have cause To wail the dimming of our shining star; But none can cure their harms by wailing them.— filed under Grief
O thus, quoth Dighton, lay the gentle babes, Thus, thus, quoth Forrest, girdling one another, Within their alabaster innocent arms.— filed under Group
Cancel his bond of life, dear God, I pray, That I may live to say, the dog is dead!— filed under Hatred
True hope is swift, and flies with swallows' wings, Kings it makes gods, and meaner creatures kings.— filed under Hope
I have lost my hopes, Perhaps even there, where I did find my doubts. M. iv. 3. And he that will not fight for such a hope, Go home to bed, and, like the owl by day, If he arise, be mock'd and wonder'd at. H. VI. PT. III. v. 4 What! we have many goodly days to see; The liquid drops of tears that you have shed, Shall come again, transform'd to orient pearl; Advantaging their loan, with interest— filed under Hope
Ah, that deceit should steal such gentle shapes, And with a virtuous visor hide deep vice!— filed under Hypocrisy
O Buckingham, beware of yonder dog; Look, when he fawns, he bites; and, when he bites, His venom tooth will rankle to the death; Have not to do with him, beware of him; Sin, death, and hell have set their marks on him; And all their ministers attend on him.— filed under Hypocrisy
Tut, I can counterfeit the deep tragedian; Speak, and look back, and pry on every side, Tremble and start at wagging of a straw, Intending deep suspicion: ghastly looks Are at my service, like enforced smiles; And both are ready in their offices,— filed under Hypocrisy
At any time, to grace my stratagems. Be not you spoke with, but by mighty suit: And look you get a prayer-book in your hand, And stand between two churchmen, good my lord; For on that ground I'll make a holy descant: And be not easily won to our requests; Play the maid's part, still answer nay, and take it.— filed under Hypocrisy
So smooth he daub'd his vice with show of virtue, That, his apparent open guilt omitted- He liv'd from all attainder of suspect.— filed under Hypocrisy
Ah, that deceit should steal such gentle shapes, And with a virtuous visor hide deep vice!— filed under Hypocrisy
And thus I clothe my naked villainy With old odd ends, stol'n forth of holy writ; And seem a saint when most I play the devil. R. III. i. 3 The secret mischief that I set abroach,— filed under Hypocrisy
I lay unto the grievous charge of others. I do the wrong, and first begin to brawl.— filed under Hypocrisy
Can the world buy such a jewel? IF. Talk'st thou to me of ifs.— filed under Jewel
The urging of that word judgment hath bred a kind of— filed under Judgment, Justice
Tetchy and wayward was thy infancy; Thy school-days frightful, desperate, wild, and furious; Thy prime of manhood daring, bold, and venturous; Thy age confirm'd, proud, subtle, sly, and bloody.— filed under Kings
Teach not thy lip such scorn; for it was made For kissing, lady, not for such contempt.— filed under Kiss
Why should calamity be full of words?— filed under Lamentations
A flourish, trumpets!--strike alarum, drums ! Let not the heavens hear these tell-tale women Rail on the Lord's anointed.— filed under Lord's Anointed
Bettering thy loss makes the bad causer worse; Revolving this will teach thee how to curse. R. III. iv.— filed under Magnanimity
And blister you all o'er. Richard yet lives, hell's black intelligencer; Only reserv'd their factor to buy souls, And send them thither: But at hand, at han 1, Ensues his piteous and unpitied end; Earth gapes, hell burns, fiends roar, saints pray, To have him suddenly convey'd from hence; Cancel his bond of life, dear God, I pray, That I may live to say-The dog is dead!— filed under Malediction
The worm of conscience still be-gnaw thy soul! Thy friends suspect for traitors whilst thou liv'st, And take deep traitors for thy dearest friends! No sleep close up that deadly eye of thine, Unless it be while some tormenting dream Affrights thee with a hell of ugly devils!— filed under Malediction
If ever he have child, abortive be it, Prodigious, and untimely brought to light. Whose ugly and unnatural aspéct May fright the hopeful mother at the view;— filed under Malediction
O momentary grace of mortal men, Which we more hunt for than the grace of God! Who builds his hope in air of your fair looks Lives like a drunken sailor on a mast; Ready, with every nod, to tumble down Into the fatal bowels of the deep.— filed under Man
Mellow'd by the stealing hours of time.— filed under Maturity
The great King of kings Hath in the table of his law commanded, That thou shalt do no murder: Wilt thou then Spurn at his edict, and fulfil a man's? Take heed; for he holds vengeance in his hand, To hurl upon their heads that break his law.— filed under Murder
Not afraid to kill him, having a warrant for it; but to be damned for killing him, from the which no warrant can defend me.— filed under Murder
The tyrannous and bloody act is done; The most arch deed of piteous massacre That ever yet this land was guilty of. MURDER, -cantinued. Dighton, and Forrest, whom I did suborn To do this piece of ruthless butchery, Albeit they were flesh'd villains, blood dogs. Melting with tenderness, and mild compassion, Wept like two children, in their death's sad story.— filed under Murder
Hast thou that holy feeling in thy soul, To counsel me to make my peace with God, And art thou yet to thy own soul so blind, That thou wilt war with God, by murd'ring me? Ah, sirs, consider, he, that set you on To do this deed, will hate you for the deed. Not to relent, is beastly savage, devilish. Which, of you, if you were a prince's son, Being pent from liberty, as I am now, If two such murderers as yourselves came to you, Would not entreat for life? My friend, I-spy some pity in thy looks; O, if thine eye be not a flatterer, Come thou on my side, and entreat for me, As you would beg, were you in my distress. A begging prince what beggar pities not? 2nd Murderer.- Look behind you, my lord. 1st Murderer. Take that, and that. (Stabbing him.)— filed under Murder
- - YOUNG PRINCES (WALES and YORK). O thus, quoth Dighton, lay the gentle babes, - Thus, thus, quoth Forrest, girdling one another Within their alabaster innocent arms; Their lips were four red roses on a stalk, Which, in their summer beauty, kiss'd each other. A book of prayers on their pillow lay; Which, once, quoth Forrest, almost chang'd my mind, But, O, the devil-there the villain stopp'd When Dighton thus told on, we smothered The most replenished sweet work of nature, That. from the prime creation, e'er she fram'd.— filed under Murder
O, that your young nobility could judge, What 'twere to lose it, and be miserable! They that stand high, have many blasts to shake them; And if they fall, they dash themselves to pieces.— filed under Vight
In the swallowing gulf Of dark forgetfulness and deep oblivion.— filed under Oblivion
And all the clouds that lowr'd upon our house In the deep bosom of the ocean buried,— filed under Oblivion
Shakespearian Dictionary. OMB What is my offence? Where is the evidence that doth accuse me? What lawful quest have given their verdict up— filed under Offence
Doubt not, my lord; I'll play the orator, As if the golden fee, for which I plead, Were for myself.— filed under Orator
God give us leisure for these rites of love! Once more, adieu!— filed under Farting
O momentary grace of mortal men, Which we more hunt for than the grace of God!— filed under Patronage
Now are our brows bound with victorious wreaths; Our bruised -arms hung up for monuments; Our stern alarums chang'd to merry meetings, Our dreadful marches to delightful measures. Grim visag'd war hath smooth'd his wrinkled front; And now, instead of mounting barbed steeds, To fright the souls of fearful adversaries, - He capers nimbly in a lady's chamber, To the lascivious pleasing of a lute.— filed under Peace
Now is the winter of our discontent Made glorious summer by this sun of York; And all the clouds that lower'd upon our house, In the deep bosom of the ocean buried.— filed under Peace
If I unwittingly, or in my rage, Have aught committed that is hardly borne By any in this presence, I desire To reconcile me to his friendly peace: 'Tis death to me, to be at enmity; I hate it, and desire all good men's love.— filed under Peace
A begging prince what beggar pities not?— filed under Pity
When he had done, some followers of mine own At lower end of the hall, hurl'd up their caps, And some ten voices cried, God save King Richard! And thus I took the 'vantage of those few, - Thanks, gentle citizens, and friends, quoth I; This general applause, and cheerful shout, Argues your wisdom, and your love to Richard: And even here broke off, and came away.— filed under Popularity
Before the days of change, still is it so; By a divine instinct, men's minds mistrust Ensuing danger; as, by proof, we see The water swell before a boist'rous storm.— filed under Portents
When clouds are seen, wise men put on their cloaks; When great leaves fall, then winter is at hand; When the sun sets, who doth not look for night? Untimely storms make men expect a dearth ? R. III.— filed under Portents
Truly, the hearts of men are full of fear: You cannot reason almost with a man That looks not heavily, and full of dread.— filed under Portents
Of my conception. When holy and devout religious men Are at their beads, 'tis hard to draw them thence,— filed under Prayers
A queen in jest, only to fill the scene.— filed under Queen
Abate the edge of traitors, gracious Lord, That would reduce these bloody days again, And make poor England weep in streams of blood.— filed under Rebellion
A garish flag, To be the aim of every dangerous shot:— filed under Regal Ceremonies
What is done, cannot be now amended: Men shall deal unadvisedly sometimes, Which after hours give leisure to repent.— filed under Repentance
Madam, I have a touch of your condition And cannot bear the accent of reproof.— filed under Reproof
That high ALL-SEER which I dallied with, Hath turn'd my feigned prayer on my head, And given in earnest what I begg'd in jest.— filed under Retribution
Thus hath the course of justice wheel'd about, And left thee but a very prey to time; Having no more but thought of what thou wert, To torture thee the more, being what thou art. Thou didst usurp my place. And dost thou not Usurp the just proportion of my sorrow?— filed under Retribution
So just is God to right the innocent!— filed under Retribution
By holy Paul, they love his grace but lightly, That fill his ears with such dissertious rumours.— filed under Rulers
Methought, I saw a thousand fearful wrecks; A thousand men, that fishes gnaw'd upon; Wedges of gold, great anchors, heaps of pearl, Inestimable stones, unvalued jewels, All scatter'd on the bottom of the sea. Some lay in dead men's sculls; and, in those holes Where eyes did once inhabit, there were crept (As 'twere in scorn of eyes) reflecting gems, That woo'd the slimy bottom of the deep, And mock'd the dead-bones that lay scatter'd by.— filed under Sea
Tear-falling pity dwells not in this eye.— filed under Severity
Sorrow breaks seasons, and reposing hours, Makes the night morning, and the noon-tide night.— filed under Sorrow
You shall be as a father to my youth; My voice shall sound as you do prompt mine ear; And I will stoop and humble my intents To your well-practis'd, wise directions. H. IV. PT. II. V. 2. My other self, my counsel's consistory, My oracle, my prophet!- My dear cousin, I, as a child, will go by thy directions.— filed under Submission
The weary sun hath made a golden set, And, by the bright track of his fiery car Gives token of a goodly day to-morrow.— filed under Sun Setting
Silver-shedding tears. Those eyes of thine, from mine have drawn salt tears, Sham'd their aspects with store of childish drops.— filed under Tears
My manly eyes did scorn an humble tear; And what these sorrows could not thence exhale, Thy beauty hath and made them blind with weeping.— filed under Tears
And wet his grave with my repentant tears.— filed under Tears
Well, go, muster men. But, hear you, leave behind Your son, George Stanley: look your heart be firm, Or else his head's assurance is but frail.— filed under Threat
And simpler than the infancy of truth. Methinks, the truth should live from age to age, As 'twere retail'd to all posterity, Even to the general all-ending day.— filed under Ruth
Shine out, fair sun, till I have bought a glass,— filed under Vanity
A horse! a horse! my kingdom for a horse!— filed under Vows
Now all the youth of Eugland are on fire, And silken dalliance in the wardrobe lies; Now thrive the armourers, and honour's thought Reigns solely in the breast of every man: They sell the pasture now to buy the horse; Following the mirror of all Christian kings, With winged heels, as English Mercuries. H. V. ii. chorus Accursed and unquiet wrangling days! How many of you have mine eyes beheld! My husband lost his life to get the crown; And often up and down my sons were toss'd, For me to joy, and weep, their gain and loss; And, being seated, and domestic broils Clean overblown, themselves, the conquerors Make war upon themselves; brother to brother, Blood to blood, self 'gainst self. O preposterous And frantic outrage! end thy damned spleen; Or let me die, to look on death no more!— filed under War
Examples, gross as earth, exhort me Witness, this army of such mass, and charge Led by a delicate and tender prince; Whose spirit, by divine ambition puff'd, Makes mouths at the invisible event; Exposing what is mortal, and unsure, To all that fortune, death, and danger, dare, H.iv.4 Even for an egg-shell. England hath long been mad, and scarr'd herself The brother blindly shed the brother's blood, The father rashly slaughter'd his own son, The son, compell'd, been butcher to the sire.— filed under War
continued. All springs reduce their currents to mine eyes, That I, being govern'd by the wat'ry moon, May send forth plenteous tears to drown the world!— filed under Weeping
Cannot a plain man live, and think no harm, But thus his simple truth must be abus'd By silken, sly, insinuating Jacks?— filed under Whisperers
The world may read in me. A man may see how this world goes, with no eyes. Look with thine ears: See how yon' justice rails upon yon' simple thief. Hark, in thine ear: Change places; and, handy. dandy, which is the justice, which is the thief? K. L. iv.— filed under World
Sweet prince, the untainted virtue of your years Hath not yet div'd into the world's deceit: No more can you distinguish of a man, Than of his outward show, which, God he knows, Seldom, or never, jumpeth with the heart.— filed under World