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Shakespeare Quotes from Troilus and Cressida
A bond of air, strong as the axle-tree— filed under Air
I'll catch it ere it come to ground. I am giddy; expectation whirls me round. The imaginary relish is so sweet,— filed under Ant
But I can tell, that in each grace of these There lurks a still and dumb discoursive devil, That tempts most cunningly.— filed under Attractions, Personal
Bastard instructed, bastard in mind, bastard in valour; in every thing illegitimate.— filed under Bastard
O beauty! where's thy faith!— filed under Beauty
You shall not sin, If you do say, we think him over proud, And under honest.— filed under Blameable
And bid the cheek be ready with a blush, Modest as morning when she coldly eyes The youthful Phœbus.— filed under Blushes
O, Sir, to such as boasting show their scars, A mock is due.— filed under Boasting
Why, Valentine, what Braggardism is this!— filed under Boasting
Thou art bought and sold, among those of any wit, like a Barbarian slave.— filed under Booby
Hector shall have a great catch, if he knock out either of your brains; a' were as good crack a fusty nut with no kernel.— filed under Brains
For 'tis a cause that hath no mean dependence— filed under Caviller
I cannot fight upon this argument.— filed under Caviller
Now they are clapper-clawing one another, I'll go look on— filed under Combat
The fineness of which metal is not found In fortune's love; for then, the bold and coward, The wise and fool, the artist and unread, The hard and soft, seem all affin'd and kin; But in the wind and tempest of her frown, Distinction, with a broad and powerful fan, Puffing at all, winnows the light away; And what hath mass, or matter, by itself Lies, rich in virtue, and unmingled.— filed under Constancy
Time, force, and death, Do to this body what extremes you can; But the strong base and building of my love Is as the very centre of the earth,— filed under Constancy
Behold, destruction, frenzy, and amazement, Like witless antics, one another meet.— filed under Consternation
A barren-spirited fellow.— filed under Coxcomb
I would croak like a raven ; I would bode, I would bode.— filed under Croaker
Which honour and allegiance cannot think. Blunt wedges rive hard knots: the seeded pride That hath to this maturity blown up In rank Achilles, must or now be cropp'd, Or, shedding, breed a nursery of like evil, To overbulk us all.— filed under Danger
Health to you, valiant Sir, During all the question of the gentle truce; But when I meet you arm'd, as black defiance,— filed under Defiance
Omission to do what is necessary Seals a commission to a blank of danger; And danger, like an ague, subtly taints Ev'n then when we sit idly in the sun.— filed under Delay
Checks and disasters Grow in the veins of actions highest rear'd; As knots, by the conflúx of meeting sap, Infect the sound pine, and divert his grain Tortive and errant from his course and growth. T. C. i. 3. Why then, you princes, Do you with cheeks abash'd behold our works; And think them shames, which are, indeed, nought else, But the protractive trials of great Jove.— filed under Disasters
When that the general is not like the hive, To whom the foragers shall all repair, What honey is expected?— filed under Disunion
The Elephant hath joints, but none for courtesy: his courtesy: his legs are legs for necessity, not for flexure.— filed under Elephant
Some there are Who on the tip of their persuasive tongue Carry all arguments and questions deep ۶ And replication prompt, and reason strong To make the weeper smile, the laugher weep. They have the dialect and different skill, Catching all passions in their craft of will. That in the general bosom they do reign Poems. Of young and old, and either sex enchain. When rank Thersites opes his mastiff jaws— filed under Eloquence
For honour travels in a strait so narrow, Where one but goes abreast; keep then the path: For emulation hath a thousand sons, That one by one pursue: If you give way, Or hedge aside from the direct forthright, Like to an entered tide, they all rush by, And leave you hindmost :- Or, like a gallant horse fallen in first rank, Lies there for pavement to the abject rear, O'er-run and trampled on: Then what they do in present, Though less than yours in past, must o'er-top yours.— filed under Emulation
The end crowns all; And that old common arbitrator, Time, Will one day end it.— filed under End
Fie, fie upon her! There's language in her eye, her cheek, her lip; Nay, her foot speaks; her wanton spirits look out, At every joint and motion of her body. O, these encounterers, so glib of tongue, That give a coasting welcome ere it comes, And wide unclasp the tables of their thoughts To every ticklish reader! set them down For sluttish spoils of opportunity, And daughters of the game.— filed under Expression, Lascivious
The beauty that is borne here in the face The bearer knows not, but commends itself To others' eyes: nor doth the eye itself (That most pure spirit of sense) behold itself, Not going from itself; but eye to eye oppos'd each other with each other's form.— filed under Eye
My will enkindled by mine eyes and ears, Two traded pilots 'twixt the dangerous shores— filed under Eye
'Tis certain, greatness, once fallen out with fortune, Must fall out with men too: What the declin'd is, He shall as soon read in the eyes of others, As feel in his own fall: -for men, like butterflies, Show not their mealy wings but to the summer.— filed under Fallen Greatness
That same Diomed is a false-hearted rogue, a most unjust knave; I will no more trust him when he leers, than I will a serpent when he hisses; he will spend his mouth, and promise, like Brabler the hound; but when he performs, astronomers fortel it; it is prodigious; there will come some change; the sun borrows of the moon, when Diomed keeps his word.— filed under Falsehood
Having his ear full of his airy fame, Grows dainty of his worth, and in his tent Lies mocking our designs.— filed under Fame
Fears makes devils of cherubims.— filed under Fear
Blind fear, that seeing reason leads, finds safer footing than blind reason stumbling, without fear.— filed under Fear
O, let my lady apprehend no fear: in all Cupid's pageant there is presented no monster.— filed under Fear
They clap the labber Ajax on the shoulder; As if his foot were on brave Hector's breast.— filed under Fiattery
Fools on both sides!— filed under Fool
Observe him for the love of mockery.— filed under Fool
In the reproof of chance Lies the true proof of men: The sea being smooth, How many shallow bauble boats dare sail Upon her patient breast, making their way With those of nobler bulk! But let the ruffian Boreas once enrage The gentle Thetis, and, anon, behold The strong-ribb'd bark through liquid mountains cut, Bounding between the two moist elements, Like Perseus' horse: Where's then the saucy boat, Whose weak untimber'd sides but even now Co-rivall'd greatness? either to harbour fled, Or made a toast for Neptune. Even so, Doth valour's show, and valour's worth, divide In storms of fortune: for, in her ray and brightness, The herd hath more annoyance by the brize, Than by the tiger; but when the splitting wind Makes flexible the knees of knotted oaks, And flies fled under shade, -why, then, the thing of courage, As rous'd with rage, with rage doth sympathize, And, with an accent tun'd in self-same key, Returns to chiding fortune.— filed under Fortitude
And what hath mass, or matter, by itself— filed under Fortune
Lies, rich in virtue, and unmingled. How some men creep in skittish Fortune's hall, While others play the idiots in her eyes! How one man eats into another's pride, While pride is fasting in his wantonness!— filed under Fortune
Frailty, thy name is woman! Sometimes we are devils to ourselves, When we will tempt the frailty of our powers, Presuming on their changeful potency.— filed under Frailty
Ah, how the poor world is pestered with such water-flies: diminutives of nature!— filed under Fribbles
The amity that wisdom knits not, folly may easily untie.— filed under Friend
continued. The like allayment could I give my grief; My love admits no qualifying cross: No more my grief, in such a precious loss.— filed under Grief
O, that her hand, In whose comparison all whites are ink, Writing their own reproach; To whose soft seizure The cygnet's down is harsh, and spirit of sense— filed under Humble
A true knight; Not yet mature, yet matchless; firm of word, Speaking in deeds, and deedless in his tongue; Not soon provok'd, nor, being provok'd, soon calm'd. His heart and hand both open, and both free; For what he has, he gives; what thinks, he shows; Yet gives he not till judgment guide his bounty, Nor dignifies an impair thought with breath: Manly as Hector, but more dangerous; For Hector, in his blaze of wrath, subscribes To tender objects, but he, in heat of action, Is more vindicative than jealous love.— filed under Hero, Military, Pretended
Instructed by the antiquary times, He must, he is, he cannot but be wise.— filed under Historian
For men, like butterflies, Show not their mealy wings but to the summer; And not a man, for being simply man, Hath any honour; but honour for those honours That are without him; as place, riches, favour, Prizes of accident as oft as merit: Which, when they fall, as being slippery standers, The love that lean'd on them as slippery too, Do one pluck down another, and together Die in the fall.— filed under Honour
The ample proposition that hope makes In all designs begun on earth below, Fails in the promis'd largeness: checks and disasters Grow in the veins of actions, highest rear'd; As knots by the conflux of meeting sap, Infect the sound pine and divert his grain, Tortive and errant from his course of growth.— filed under Hope
There is a credence in thy heart, An esperance so obstinately strong, That doth invert the attest of eyes and ears; As if those organs had deceptious functions,— filed under Hope
'Tis mad idolatry, That makes the service greater than the god.— filed under Idolatry
How novelty may move, and parts with person, Alas, a kind of godly jealousy (Which, I beseech you, call a virtuous sin) Makes me afeard.— filed under Jealousy
Dull, unfeeling, barren ignorance.— filed under Jewel
For Brutus, as you know, was Cæsar's angel; Judge, O you gods, how dearly Cæsar lov'd him! This was the most unkindest cut of all : For when the noble Cæsar saw him stab, Ingratitude, more strong than traitors' arms, Quite vanquish'd him: then burst his mighty heart; And, in his mantle muffling up his face, Even at the base of Pompey's statue, Which all the while ran blood, great Cæsar fell. J. C. iii. 2 Time hath, my lord, a wallet at his back, Wherein he puts alms for oblivion, A great-siz'd monster of ingratitudes: Those scraps are good deeds past; which are devour'd As fast as they are made, forgot as soon As done.— filed under Ingratitude
As knots, by the conflúx of meeting sap, Infect the sound pine, and divert his grain, Tortive and errant from his course of growth.— filed under Knots In Timber
Cry, Trojans, cry! lend me ten thousand eyes, And I will fill them with prophetic tears. Virgins and boys, mid-age and wrinkled elders, Soft infancy, that nothing canst but cry, Add to my clamours! let us pay betimes A moiety of that mass of moan to come.— filed under Lamentations
Why, thou picture of what thou seemest, and idol of and idol of idiot-worshippers, here's a letter for thee.— filed under Letter
Let me not to the marriage of true minds Admit impediments. Love is not love, Which alters when it alteration finds, Or bends with the remover to remove. O no, it is an ever-fixed mark, That looks on tempests, and is never shaken It is the star to every wand'ring bark, Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken. Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks Within his bending sickle's compass come; Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks, But bears it out even to the edge of doom. Poems To be wise, and love, exceeds man's might.— filed under Love
Cressid, I love thee in so strain'd a purity, That the bless'd gods-as angry with my fancy, More bright in zeal than the devotion which Cold lips blow to their deities.— filed under Love
Love's invisible soul.— filed under Love
Of Sycorax, toads, beetles, bats, light on you. The common curse of mankind, folly and ignorance, be thine in great revenue! heaven bless thee from a tutor, and discipline come not near thee! Let thy blood be thy direction till thy death! then if she, that lays thee out, says, thou art a fair corse, I'll be sworn, and sworn upon't, she— filed under Malediction
The plague of Greece upon thee, thou mongrel beef-witted lord!— filed under Malediction
And that be heir to his unhappiness. Dower'd with our curse, and stranger'd with an oath. K. L. i. 1. Why, thou damnable box of envy, thou, what meanest thou, to curse thus.— filed under Malediction
goodly manor for a song. Would the fountain of your mind were clear again, that I might water an ass at it.— filed under Melancholy
The busy day, Wak'd by the lark, hath rous'd the ribald crows.— filed under Morning
Things in motion sooner catch the eye, Than what not stirs.— filed under Motion
One touch of nature makes the whole world kin.— filed under Nature
Nature, what things there are, Most abject in regard, and dear in use! What things again most dear in the esteem, And poor in worth!— filed under Nature
O, then, beware; Those wounds heal ill that men do give themselves: Omission to do what is necessary Seals a commission to a blank of danger; And danger, like an ague, subtly taints Even then when we sit idly in the sun.— filed under Neglect
They pass'd by me As misers do by beggars.— filed under Neglect
Lovers to bed; 'tis almost fairy time. To bed, to bed: Sleep kill those pretty eyes, And give as soft attachment to thy senses, As infants empty of all thought.— filed under Night
That all, with one consent, praise new born gawds, Though they are made and moulded of things past; And give to dust, that is a little gilt, More laud toan gilt o'er-dusted. The present eye praises the present object.— filed under Vight
When time is old and hath forgot itself, When water-drops have worn the stones of Troy, And blind oblivion swallow'd cities up, And mighty states characterless are grated To dusty nothing.— filed under Oblivion
A plague of opinion! a man may wear it on both sides,— filed under Opinion
And scants us with a single famish'd kiss, Distasted with the salt of broken tears.— filed under Parting
He, that would have a cake out of the wheat, must tarry— filed under Patience
The sea being smooth, How many shallow bauble boats dare sail Upon her patient breast, making their way With those of nobler bulk.— filed under Peace
Perséverance, dear my lord, Keeps honour bright: To have done, is to hang Quite out of fashion, like a rusty mail In monumental mockery.— filed under Perseverance
Come, draw this curtain, and let's see your picture.— filed under Picture
Pleasure, and revenge, Have ears more deaf than adders to the voice Of any true decision.— filed under Plea
The worthiness of praise distains his worth If that the prais'd himself bring the praise forth: But what the rip'ning enemy commend, That breath fame follows; that praise, sole pure, transcends.— filed under Power
I do hate a proud man, as I hate the engendering of toads.— filed under Pride
He that is proud, eats up himself; pride is his own glass, his own trumpet, his own chronicle; and whatever praises itself but in the deed, devours the deed in the praise.— filed under Pride
He is so plaguy proud, that the death tokens of it Cry,-No recovery.— filed under Pride
An he be proud with me, I'll pheeze his pride.— filed under Pride
Things small as nothing, for request's sake only, He makes important: Possess'd he is with greatness; And speaks not to himself, but with a pride That quarrels at self-breath.— filed under Pride
Yes, lion-sick, sick of proud heart: you may call it melancholy if you will favour the man; but, by my head, 'tis pride.— filed under Pride
Anticipating time with starting courage.— filed under Promptitude
All things that are Are with more spirit chased than enjoy'd. How like a younker, or a prodigal, The scarfed bark puts from her native bay, Hugg'd and embraced by the strumpet wind! How like the prodigal doth she return, With over-weather'd ribs, and ragged sails, Lean, rent, and beggar'd by the strumpet wind! M. V. ii. 6 Women are angels, wooing: Things won are done, joy's soul lies in the doing: That she belov'd knows nought, that knows not this,- Men prize the thing ungain'd more than it is.— filed under Pursuit
I shall sooner rail thee into wit and holiness; but, I think, thy horse will sooner con an oration, than thou learn a prayer without book.— filed under Railing
Rails on our little state of war Bold as an oracle: and sets Thersites, (A slave, whose gall coins slander like a mint,) To match us in comparisons with dirt.— filed under Railing
Good reasons must, of force, give place to better. J.C. iv. 3. The reasons you allege, do more conduce To the hot passion of distemper'd blood, Than to make up a free determination 'Twixt right and wrong.— filed under Reason
Nay, if we talk of reason, Let's shut our gates, and sleep: Manhood and honour Should have hare hearts, would they but fat their thoughts With this cramm'd reason: reason and respect Make livers pale, and lustihood deject.— filed under Reason
You fur your gloves with reason: here are your reasons: You know an enemy intends you harm : You know a sword employ'd is perilous;— filed under Reason
And reason flies the object of all harm. No marvel, though you bite so sharp at reasons, You are so empty of them.— filed under Reason
Praise us as we are tasted, allow us as we prove.— filed under Recompence
It is suppos'd, He, that meets Hector, issues from our choice: And choice, being mutual act of all our souls, Makes merit her election; and doth boil, As 'twere from forth us all, a man distill'd— filed under Representative
I see, my reputation is at stake;— filed under Reputation
Here, here; here's an excellent place; here we may see most bravely: I'll tell you them all by their names as they pass by.— filed under Review
There never was a truer rhyme. Let us cast away nothing, for we may live to have need of such a verse.— filed under Rhymster
And in this fashion, All our abilities, gifts, natures, shapes, Severals and generals of grace exact, Achievements, plots, orders, preventions, Excitements to the field, or speech for truce, Success or loss, what is, or is not, serves— filed under Ridicule
Satire, keen and critical. Wit larded with melice.— filed under Satire
Two may keep counsel, putting one away. A juggling trick to be secretly open.— filed under Secrecy
And in such indexes, although small pricks To their subséquent volumes, there is seen The baby figure of the giant mass— filed under Signs Of The Times
See, see, your silence, Cunning in dumbness, from my weakness draws My very soul of counsel.— filed under Silence
A slave, whose gall coins slanders like a mint.— filed under Slander
To bed, to bed: Sleep kill those pretty eyes, And give as soft attachment to thy senses, As infants empty of all thought.— filed under Sleep
But sorrow, that is couch'd in seeming gladness, Is like that mirth fate turns to sudden sadness.— filed under Sorrow
And when he speaks 'Tis like a chime a mending; with terms unsquar'd, Which, from the tongue of roaring Typhon dropt, Would seem hyperboles.— filed under Speech
'Sfoot, I'll learn to conjure and raise devils, but I'll see— filed under Spite
I shall stalk about her door, Like a strange soul upon the Stygian banks, Staying for waftage.— filed under Stalking
A sword employ'd is perilous.— filed under Sword
There lurks a still and dumb-discoursive devil, That tempts most cunningly.— filed under Temptation
Sometimes we are devils to ourselves, When we will tempt the frailty of our powers, Presuming on their changeful potency.— filed under Temptation
Why, he stalks up and down like a peacock, a stride and a stand; ruminates, like an hostess that hath no arithmetic but her brain to set down her reckoning; bites his lip with a politic regard, as who should say, there were wit in his head, an 'twould out; and so there is; but it lies as coldly in him as fire in a flint, which will not show without knocking.— filed under Thought
What's past, and what's to come, is strew'd with husks, And formless ruin of oblivion.— filed under Time
Beauty, wit, High birth, vigour of bone, desert in service, Love, friendship, charity, are subjects all To envious and calumniating time.— filed under Time
Time is like a fashionable host, That slightly shakes his parting guest by the hand; . And with his arms out-stretch'd, as he would fly, Grasps in the comer: welcome ever smiles, And farewell goes out sighing.— filed under Time
She does so blush, and fetches her wind so short, as if she was frayed with a sprite: I'll fetch her. It is the prettiest villain:-She fetches her breath as short as a new ta'en sparrow.— filed under Trepidation
Into his ruin'd ears, and thus deliver. Give, with thy trumpet, a loud note to Troy, Thou dreadful Ajax; that the apalled air May pierce the head of the great combatant, And hale him thither.— filed under Trumpet
Thou, trumpet, there's my purse.. Now crack thy lungs, and split thy brazen pipe: Blow, villain, till thy sphered bias cheek Out-swell the cholic of puff'd Aquilon: Come, stretch thy chest, and let thy eyes spout blood: Thou blow'st for Hector.— filed under Trumpet
Truth needs no colour, -beauty no pencil. Poems. Alas, it is my vice, my fault: While others fish with craft for great opinion, I with great truth catch mere simplicity.— filed under Truth
I am as true as truth's simplicity,— filed under Ruth
What is aught, but as 'tis valued ? But value dwells not in particular will; It holds his estimate and dignity As well wherein 'tis precious of itself As in the prizer: 'tis mad idolatry, To make the service greater than the god; And the will dotes, that is attributive To what infectiously itself affects,— filed under Value
Words, words, mere words, no matter from the heart.— filed under Verbosity
The amity that wisdom knits not, folly may easily untie.— filed under Vituperation
The gods are deaf to hot and peevish vows They are polluted offerings, more abhor'd Than spotted livers in the sacrifice.— filed under Vows
It is the purpose that makes strong the vow; But vows to every purpose must not hold.— filed under Vows
A stirring dwarf we do allowance give— filed under Vows
Though't be a sportful combat, Yet in the trial much opinion dwells.— filed under Wager
we all march? O virtuous fight, When right with right wars, who shall be most right.— filed under War
Than prais'd for harmful mildness. I am weaker than a woman's tear, Tamer than sleep, fonder than ignorance; Less valiant than the virgin in the night, And skilless as unpractis'd infancy.— filed under Weakness
Lo, lo, lo, lo, what modicums of wit he utters!— filed under Wit
Hector shall have a great catch, if he knock out either of your brains; 'a were as good crack a fusty nut with no kernel.— filed under Wit
Ah! poor our sex! this fault in us I find, The error of our eye directs our mind.— filed under Woman