A college of wit-crackers cannot flout me out of my humor. Dost thou think I care for a satire or an epigram? William Shakespeare More Quotes by William Shakespeare More Quotes From William Shakespeare I have more care to stay than will to go. William Shakespeare care caring want What infinite heart's-ease Must kings neglect that private men enjoy! And what have kings that privates have not too, Save ceremony, save general ceremony? William Shakespeare kings heart men And what art thou, thou idol Ceremony? What kind of god art thou, that suffer'st more Of mortal griefs than do thy worshippers? William Shakespeare grief idols art O Ceremony, show me but thy worth? What is thy soul of adoration? Art thou aught else but place, degree, and form, Creating awe and fear in other men? William Shakespeare creating men art Ever note, Lucilius, When love begins to sicken and decay It useth an enforced ceremony. 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. William Shakespeare horse simple fall I will not choose what many men desire, Because I will not jump with common spirits And rank me with the barbarous multitudes. William Shakespeare spirit desire men Preferment goes by letter and affection, And not by old gradation, where each second Stood heir to th's first. William Shakespeare heirs letters firsts If it be aught toward the general good, Set honor in one eye and death i' th' other, And I will look on both indifferently; For let the gods so speed me as I love The name of honor more than I fear death. William Shakespeare eye honor names That is the way to lay the city flat, To bring the roof to the foundation, And bury all, which yet distinctly ranges, In heaps and piles of ruin. William Shakespeare foundation cities way Thus we play the fool with the time and the spirits of the wise sit in the clouds and mock us. William Shakespeare wise clouds time If it be honor in your wars to seem The same you are not,--which, for your best ends, You adopt your policy--how is it less or worse, That it shall hold companionship in peace With honour, as in war: since that to both It stands in like request? William Shakespeare companionship honor war Confess yourself to heaven, Repent what's past, avoid what is to come, And do not spread the compost on the weeds To make them ranker. William Shakespeare weed heaven past A stirring dwarf we do allowance give Before a sleeping giant. William Shakespeare dwarves sleep giving He that will have a cake out of the wheat must tarry the grinding. Have I not tarried? Ay, the grinding; but you must tarry the bolting. Have I not tarried? Ay, the bolting; but you must tarry the leavening. Still have I tarried. Ay, to the leavening; but here's yet in the word 'hereafter' the kneading, the making of the cake, the heating of the oven, and the baking; nay, you must stay the cooling too, or you may chance to burn your lips. William Shakespeare baking lips cake Would the cook were o' my mind! William Shakespeare cookery cooks mind By Jove, I am not covetous for gold, Nor care I who doth feed upon my cost; It yearns me not if me my garments wear; Such outward things dwell not in my desires: But if it be a sin to covet honor, I am the most offending soul alive. William Shakespeare offending soul honor How many cowards whose hearts are all as false As stairs of sand, wear yet upon their chins The beards of Hercules and frowning Mars, Who inward searched, have livers white as milk! William Shakespeare coward white heart The even mead, that erst brought sweetly forth The freckled cowslip, burnet, and green clover, Wanting the scythe, all uncorrected, rank, Conceives by idleness, and nothing teems But hateful docks, rough thistles, kecksies, burrs, Losing both beauty and utility. William Shakespeare docks green weed The crow doth sing as sweetly as the lark When neither is attended; and I think The nightingale, if she should sing by day When every goose is cackling, would be thought No better a musician than the wren. How many thing by season seasoned are To their right praise and true perfection! William Shakespeare crow perfection thinking Come, seeling night, Scarf up the tender eye of pitiful day, And with thy bloody and invisible hand Cancel and tear to pieces that great bond Which keeps me pale. Light thickens, and the crow Makes wing to th' rooky wood. Good things of day begin to droop and drowse, While night's black agents to their prey do rouse. William Shakespeare eye night hands
