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Shakespeare Quotes from Timon of Athens
A man I am, cross'd with adversity. But myself, Who had the world as my confectionary; The mouths, the tongues, the eyes, the hearts of men At duty, more than I could frame employment; That numberless upon me stuck, as leaves Do on the oak, have with one winter's brush Fell from their boughs, and left me open, bare, For every storm that blows; I, to bear this,— filed under Adversity
That never knew but better, is some burden. T. A. iv. 3 Such a house broke! So noble a master fallen! All gone! and not One friend to take his fortune by the arm,— filed under Adversity
What think'st That the bleak air, thy boisterous chamberlain, Will put thy shirt on warm? Will these moist trees, That have out-lived the eagle, page thy heels, And skip when thou point'st out? will the cold brook, Candied with ice, caudle thy morning taste, To cure thy o'er-night's surfeit? Call the creatures; Whose naked natures live in all the spight Of wreakful heaven; whose bare unhoused trunks, To the conflicting elements expos'd,— filed under Adversity
To be in anger is impiety, But who is man that is not angry.— filed under Anger
Eating the bitter bread of banishment. Banish me? Banish your dotage; banish usury,— filed under Banishment
'Tis pity bounty had not eyes behind; That man might ne'er be wretched for his mind.— filed under Bounty
Magic of bounty! all these spirits thy power— filed under Bounty
No villainous bounty yet hath pass'd my heart; Unwisely, not ignobly, have I given.— filed under Bounty
Was but devis'd at first to set a gloss On faint deeds, hollow welcomes 'tis shown, Recanting goodness, sorry But where there is true friendship, there needs none.— filed under Ceremony
My crown is in my heart, not on my head; Not deck'd with diamonds and Indian stones, Nor to be seen; my crown is call'd content; A crown it is that seldom kings enjoy. H. VI. PT. III. iii. 1 Willing misery Outlives incertain pomp, is crown'd before: The one is filling still, never complete; The other, at high wish.— filed under Content
All have not offended: For those that were, it is not square, to take, On those that are, revenges: crimes, like lands, Are not inherited.— filed under Crimes
They have e en put my breath from me, the slaves; Creditors!-devils.— filed under Debt
These debts may well be call'd desperate ones, for a madman owes 'em.— filed under Debt
I am sick of this false world; and will love nought But even the mere necessities upon it. Then, Timon, presently prepare thy grave; Lie, where the light foam of the sea may beat Thy grave-stone daily.— filed under Despondency
Nothing I'll bear from thee But nakedness, thou détestable town! Timon will to the woods; where he shall find The unkindest beast more kinder than mankind.— filed under Despondency
How! what does his cashier'd worship mutter?— filed under Dismissal
indeed, there is no need. If wrongs be evils, and enforce us kill, What folly 'tis to hazard life for ill.— filed under Duellist
They answer, in a joint and corporate voice, That now they are at fall, want treasure, cannot Do what they would; are sorry-you are honourable,- But yet they could have wish'd-they knew not-but Something hath been amiss-a noble nature May catch a wrench-would all were well-'tis pity- And so, intending other serious matters, After distasteful looks, and these hard fractions, With certain half caps, and cold moving nods,— filed under Duns
O, that men's ears should be— filed under Flattery
To counsel deaf, but not to flattery! The learned pate Ducks to the golden fool: All is oblique; There's nothing level in our cursed natures,— filed under Flattery
But direct villainy. Why this Is the world's soul; and just of the same piece— filed under Flattery
The breath is gone whereof this praise is made. T. A. ii. 2. He that loves to be flatter'd is worthy the flatterer.— filed under Flattery
I must be held a rancorous enemy. Why these looks of care? Thy flatterers yet wear silk, drink wine, lie soft; Hug their diseas'd perfumes, and have forgot these That ever Timon was. Shame not these woods. woods. By putting on the cunning of a carper. Be thou a flatterer now, and seek to thrive By that which has undone thee: hinge thy knee, And let his very breath whom thou'lt observe, Blow off thy cap; praise his most vicious strain,— filed under Flattery
A thousand moral paintings I can show, That shall demonstrate these quick blows of Fortune, More pregnantly than words. Yet you do well, To show lord Timon, that mean eyes have seen The foot above the head.— filed under Fortune
Whom Fortune, with her ivory hand, wafts to her; Whose present grace to present slaves and servants * Translates his rivals. * * All those which were his fellows but of late (Some better than his value) on the moment Follow his strides, his lcbbies fill with tendance, Rain sacrificial whisperings in his ear, Make sacred even his stirrup, and through him Drink the frce air. * * * When Fortune, in her shift and change of mood, Soares down her late belov'd, all his dependants, Which labour'd after him to the mountain's top, Even on their knees and hands, let him slip down, Cot one accompanying his declining foot.— filed under Ortune
▷ Fortune, Fortune! all men call thee fickle. Fill Fortune never come with both hands full, But write her fair words still in foulest letters? She either gives a stomach and no food,- Such are the poor, in health; or else a feast, And takes away the stomach, -such are the rich, That have abundance, and enjoy it not. H.IV. PT. II. iv 4. Twinn'd brothers of one womb,- Whose procreation, residence, and birth, Scarce is dividant, -touch them with several fortunes, The greater scorns the lesser: Not nature, To whom all sores lay siege, can bear great fortune, But by contempt of nature. Raise me this beggar, and denude that lord; The senator shall bear contempt hereditary, The beggar, native honour. It is the pasture lards the brother's sides, The want that makes him lean.— filed under Ortune
Directly seasons him an enemy. O, you gods! think I, what need we have any friends? they were the most needless creatures living, if we should never have need of them? They would most resemble sweet instruments hung up in cases, that keep their sounds to themselves. We are born to do benefits. O what a precious comfort 'tis to have so many like brothers, command..— filed under Friend
ing one another's fortunes! Commend me to him; I will send his ransom; And, being enfranchis'd, bid him come to me;- 'Tis not enough to help the feeble up,— filed under Friend
I should fear those, who dance before me now, Would one day stamp upon me: It has been done; Men shut their doors against a setting sun.— filed under Friend
Friendship's full of dregs.— filed under Friend
Canst thou the inscience lack, To think I shall lack friends? Secure 23 heart; If I could broach the vessels of my love, And try the argument of hearts by borrowing, Men, and men's fortunes, could I frankly use, As I can bid thee speak.— filed under Friend
O thou sweet king-killer, and dear divorce 'Twixt natural son and sire! thou bright defiler Of Hvmen's purest bed! thou valiant Mars! Thou ever young, fresh, lov'd, and delicate woocr, Whose blush doth thaw the consecrated snow That lies on Dian's lap! thou visible god, That solder'st close impossibilities, And mak'st them kiss! that speak'st with every tongue,— filed under Gold
'Thus much of this, will make black white; foul, fair; Wrong, right; base, noble; old, young; coward, valiant. Ha, ye gods! Why this? What, this, you gods? Why this Will lug your priests and servants from your sides; Pluck stout men's pillows from below their heads: This yellow slave Will knit and break religions; bless the accurs'd; Make the hoar leprosy ador'd; place thieves, And give them title, knee, and approbation, With senators on the bench: this is it, That makes the wappen'd widow wed again; She, whom the spital house, and ulcerous sores, Would cast the gorge at; this embalms and spices— filed under Gold
O thou touch of hearts!— filed under Gold
Let me behold Thy face. Surely this man was born of woman.- Forgive my general and exceptless rashness, Perpetual sober-gods! I do proclaim One honest man, -mistake me not, but one; No more, I pray, -and he's a steward.— filed under Honesty
chance. Every man has his fault, and honesty is his; I have told— filed under Honesty
Inhabits our frail blood. I have kept back their foes While they have told their money; and let out Their coin upon large interest; I myself, Rich only in large hurts, -All those for this? Is this the balsam, that the usuring senate Pours into captains' wounds?— filed under Ingratitude
I am rapt, and cannot cover The monstrous bulk of this ingratitude With any size of words.— filed under Ingratitude
To kill, I grant, is sin's extremest gust;— filed under Killing
We are for law, he dies.— filed under Law
It pleases time and fortune to lie heavy Upon a friend of mine, who, in hot blood, Hath stepp'd into the law, which is past depth To those that, without heed, plunge into it.— filed under Law
If by this crime he owes the law his life, Why, let the war receiv't in valiant gore; For law is strict, and war is nothing more.— filed under Law
Like madness is the glory of this life.— filed under Life
I am an humble suitor to your virtues; For pity is the virtue of the law, And none but tyrants use it cruelly.— filed under Mercy
I am misanthropos, and hate mankind, For thy part, I do wish thou wert a dog, That I might love thee something.— filed under Misanthropy
Tell Athens, in the sequence of degree, From high to low throughout, that whoso please To stop affliction, let him take his haste, Come hither, ere my tree hath felt the axe,— filed under Misanthropy
My long sickness Of health and living, now begins to mend, And nothing brings me all things.— filed under Misfortune
Dost thou love pictures? We will fetch thee straight Adonis, painted by a running brook: And Cytherea, all in sedges hid; Which seem to move and wanton with her breath, Even as the waving sedges play with wind. We'll show thee Io, as she was a maid; And how she was beguiled and surpris'd, As lively painted as the deed was done. Or Daphne, roaming through a thorny wood; Scratching her legs that one shall swear she bleeds; And at that sight shall sad Apollo weep, So workmanly the blood and tears are drawn T. S. IND. 2. Painting is welcome, The painting is almost the natural man; For since dishonour trafficks with man's nature,. He is but outside: These pencil'd figures are— filed under Painting
Ev'n such as they give out. It is a pretty mocking of the life.— filed under Painting
I'll say of it It tutors nature: artificial strife— filed under Painting
Lives in these touches, livelier than life... How this grace Speaks his own standing! what a mental power This eye shoots forth! How big imagination Moves in this lip! to the dumbness of the gesture One might interpret.— filed under Painting
Timon. Wrought he not well that painted this? Apemantus.-He wrought better that made the painter. and yet he's but a filthy piece of work.— filed under Painting
You undergo too strict a paradox,— filed under Paradox
And leave thee in the storm. O, you gods! what a number Of men eat Timon, and he sees them not! It grieves me, to see so many dip their meat In one man's blood; and all the madness is,— filed under Parasites
Feast-won, fast-lost; one cloud of winter showers; These flies are couch'd.— filed under Parasites
May you a better feast never behold, You knot of mouth-friends! Smoke and luke-warm water Is your perfection. This is Timon's last; Who stuck and spangled you with flatteries, Washes it off, and sprinkles in your faces Your reeking villainy. Live loath'd, and long, Most smiling, smooth, detested parasites, Courteous destroyers, affable wolves, meak bears, You fools of fortune, trencher friends, time's flies, Cap and knee slaves, vapours, and minute-jacks! Of man, and beast, the infinite malady Crust you quite o'er'— filed under Parasites
Pity's sleeping: Strange times, that weep with laughing, not with weeping!— filed under Pity
Mex must learn now with pity to dispense; For policy sits above conscience.— filed under Pity
Hear me, you wrangling pirates, that fall out In sharing that which you have pill'd from me. R. III. i. 3. POETRY. POET (See also BALLAD-MONGER, RHYMSTER). Our poesy is a gum, which oozes From whence 'tis nourish'd: the fire i'the flint Shows not, till it be struck; our gentle flame Provokes itself, and, like the current, flies— filed under Plunderers
The devil knew not what he did, when he made man politic.— filed under Policy
You see, how all conditions, how all minds, (As well of glib and slippery creatures, as Of grave and austere quality,) tender down Their services to Lord Timon; his large fortune Upon his good and gracious nature hanging, Subdues and properties to his love and tendance All sorts of hearts.— filed under Popularity
No matter what: He's poor, and that's revenge enough.— filed under Poverty
here's no place for you; pray you, avoid. As we do turn our backs From our companion, thrown into his grave; So his familiars to his buried fortunes Slink all away; leave their false vows with him, Like empty purses pick'd; and his poor self, A dedicated beggar to the air, With his disease of all shunn'd poverty,— filed under Poverty
Art thou so bare, and full of wretchedness, And fear's to die? famine is in thy cheeks, Need and oppression stareth in thine eyes, Upon thy back hangs ragged misery, The world is not thy friend, nor the world's law. R. J. v. 1 Who can speak broader than he that has no house to put his head in?-Such may rail against great buildings.— filed under Poverty
What will this come to? He commands us to provide, and give great gifts, And all out of an empty coffer; Nor will he know his purse; or yield me this, To show him what a beggar his heart is, Being of no power to make his wishes good; Eis promises fly so beyond his state, That what he speaks is all in debt, he owes For every word; he is so kind, that he now Pays interest for it— filed under Prodigality
Promising is the very air o' the time: it opens the eyes of expectation: performance is ever the duller for his act: and, but in the plainer and simpler kind of people, the deed is quite out of use. To promise, is most courtly and fashionable; performance is a kind of will and testament, which argues a great sickness in his judgment that makes it.— filed under Promises
Many so arrive at second masters, upon their first lord's neck.— filed under Promotion
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: Now the time is flush, When crouching marrow, in the bearer strong, Cries of itself, No more: now breathless wrong, Shall sit and pant in your great chairs of ease; And pursy insolence shall break his wind, With fear and horrid flight.— filed under Retribution
Heavy-headed revel. Our vaults have wept With drunken spilth of wine; when every room Hath blaz'd with lights, and bray'd with minstrelsy. minstrelsy.— filed under Revelry
Cry Havock! and let slip the dogs of war. To revenge is no valour, but to bear.— filed under Revenge
These old fellows Have their ingratitude in them hereditary: Their blood is cak'd, tis cold, it seldom flows; 'Tis lack of kindly warmth, they are not kind; And nature, as it grows again towards earth, Is fashioned for the journey, dull, and heavy.— filed under Senators
Milk-liver'd man! That bear'st a cheek for blows, a head for wrongs, Who hast not in thy brows an eye discerning Thine honour from thy suffering; that not know'st Fools do those villains pity, who are punish'd K. Lv.2 Ere they have done their mischief. How this lord's follow'd!— filed under Slavishness
A try'd and valiant soldier. Soldiers should brook as little wrongs, as gods.— filed under Soldier
Large-handed robbers your grave masters are, And pill by law.— filed under Taxation
Yet thanks I must you con, That you are thieves profest; that you work not In holier shapes: for there is boundless theft In limited professions.— filed under Thief, Thievery
Break shops; nothing can you steal, But thieves do lose it.— filed under Thief
Timon hath made his everlasting mansion Upon the beached verge of the salt flood; Which, once a day with his embossed froth, The turbulent surge shall cover; thither come, And let my grave-stone be your oracle.— filed under Timon's Grave
He's truly valiant, that can wisely suffer The worst that man can breathe; and make his wrongs His outsides; wear them, like his raiment, carelessly; And ne'er prefer his injuries to his heart,— filed under Valour
That use is not forbidden usury, Poems. Which happies those that pay the willing loan. Banish usury, that makes the senate ugly.— filed under Vows
Poor rogues, and usurers' men! bawds between gold and— filed under Vows
The storm is up, and all is on the hazard. Slaves for pillage fighting, Obdurate vassals, fell exploits effecting, In bloody deaths and ravishments delighting; Nor children's tears, nor mothers' groans respecting. Poems. Put armour on thine ears, and on thine eyes; Whose proof, nor yells of mothers, maids, nor babes, Nor sight of priests in holy vestments bleeding, Shall pierce a jot.— filed under War
The imminent death of twenty thousand men, That, for a fantasy, and trick of fame, Go to their graves like beds; fight for a plot, Whereon the numbers cannot try the cause; Which is not tomb enough, and continent, To hide the slain. H.iv.4 Giving our holy virgins to the stain Of contumelious, beastly, mad-brain'd war.— filed under War
Follow thy drum; With man's blood paint the ground, gules, gules: Religious canons, civil laws, are cruel; Then what should war be?— filed under War
We are born to do benefits.— filed under Well Doing
A violet in the youth of primy nature. She is young, and apt; Our own precedent passions do instruct us— filed under Youth