William Shakespeare Ill Quotations

Did my heart love till now? Forswear it, sight, For I never saw true beauty till this night

Thoughts are but dreams till their effects be tried.

Thought are but dreams till their effects are tried.

Oh, God! I have an ill-divining soul!

Our wills and fates do so contrary runThat our devices still are overthrown;Our thoughts are ours, their ends none of our own.

Our bodies are our gardens... our wills are our gardeners.

It makes a man a coward. . . . It fills a man 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 towns and cities for a dangerous thing, and every man that means to live well endeavors to trust to himself and live without it.

...the spring, the summer,The chilling autumn, angry winter, changeTheir wonted liveries; and the mazed worldBy their increase, now knows not which is which.

Graze on my lips, and if those hills are dry, Stray lower where the pleasant fountains lie

But that the dread of something after death, the undiscovered country from who bourn no traveler returns, puzzles the will and makes us rather bear those ills we have than to fly to others that we know not of?

Come, let's have one other gaudy night. Call to me. All my sad captains. Fill our bowls once more. Let's mock the midnight bell.

To climb steep hills requires slow pace at first.

In peace there's nothing so becomes a manAs modest stillness and humility;But when the blast of war blows in our ears,Then imitate the action of the tiger:Stiffen the sinews, summon up the blood,Then lend the eye a terrible aspect;Now set the teeth, and stretch the nostril wide,Hold hard the breath, and bend up every spiritTo his full height!

Good night, good night! Parting is such sweet sorrow, That I shall say good night till it be morrow

It is silliness to live when to live is torment.

To whom God will, there be the victory.

The third day comes a frost, a killing frost.

It is silliness to live when to live is torment, and then have we a prescription to die when death is our physician.

How is it that the clouds still hang on you?

If there is a good will, there is great way.

I kissed thee ere I killed thee. No way but this, Killing myself, to die upon a kiss.

I like not fair terms and a villain's mind.

Weariness can snore upon the flint, when resty sloth finds the down pillow hard.

Love is blind, it stops lovers seeing the silly things they do.

I had rather live with cheese and garlic in a windmill.

All pride is willing pride.

As a walled town is more worthier than a village, so is the forehead of a married man more honorable than the bare brow of a bachelor.

Nothing routs us but the villainy of our fears.

Thou whoreson, senseless villain!

My comfort is, that old age, that ill layer-up of beauty, can do no more spoil upon my face

Glory is like a circle in the water, Which never ceaseth to enlarge itself Till by broad spreading it disperse to naught

Happy thou art not; for what thou hast not, still thou strivest to get; and what thou hast, forgettest.

What are you doing sister? / Killing swine.

There is some ill a-brewing towards my rest,For I did dream of money-bags to-night.

How oft the sight of means to do ill deeds makes deeds ill done!

The world must be peopled. When I said I would die a bachelor, I did not think I should live till I were married.

Till I have no wife I have nothing.

This is some fellow, Who having been prais'd for bluntness, doth affect A saucy roughness and constrains the garb Quite from his nature: he can't flatter, he! An honest mind and plain,--he must speak truth! And they will take it so; if not he's plain. These kind of knaves I know, which in this plainness Harbor more craft, and far corrupter ends, Than twenty silly, ducking observants, That stretch their duty nicely.

Some glory in their birth , some in their skill , Some in their wealth , some in their bodies' force , Some in their garments, though new-fangled ill; Some in their hawks and hounds , some in their horse ; And every humor hath his adjunct pleasure , Wherein it finds a joy above the rest .

Still constant is a wondrous excellence.

Write till your ink be dry, and with your tearsMoist it again, and frame some feeling lineThat may discover such integrity.

Things bad begun make strong themselves by ill.

There is no sure foundation set on blood, No certain life achieved by others' death.

I am ill at these numbers.

For now they kill me with a living death.

When workmen strive to do better than well, they do confound their skill in covetousness.

Be still prepared for death: and death or life shall thereby be the sweeter.

Gives not the hawthorn bush a sweeter shade To shepherds, looking on their silly sheep, Than doth a rich embroider'd canopy To kings that fear their subjects treachery?

To show our simple skill, That is the true beginning of our end.

An enterprise, when fairly once begun, should not be left till all that ought is won.

These high wild hills and rough uneven waysDraw out our miles and make them wearisome;But yet your fair discourse hath been as sugar,Making the hard way sweet and delectable.

There was never virgin got till virginity was first lost

Demetrius: Villain, what hast thou done? Aaron: That which thou canst not undo. Chiron: Thou hast undone our mother. Aaron: Villain, I have done thy mother.

The love that follows us sometime is our trouble, which still we thank as love.

And what’s he then that says I play the villain?

And some that smile have in their hearts, I fear, millions of mischiefs.

Ill deeds is doubled with an evil word.

The let-alone lies not in your good will.

In the world I fill up a place, which may be better supplied when I have made it empty