William Shakespeare Love Quotations [Page 2]

One half of me is yours, the other half is yours, Mine own, I would say; but if mine, then yours, And so all yours.

Love bears it out even to the edge of doom.

Love is a smoke made with the fume of sighs. Being purged a fire sparkling in lovers eyes, being vexed a sea nourished with lovers tears, What is it else? A madness most discreet, A choking gall and a perserving sweet.

Love is a smoke made with the fume of sighs. Being purged, a fire sparkling in lovers eyes. Being vexed, a sea nourished with lovers tears. What is it else? A madness most discreet, a choking gall and a preserving sweet.

Love goes toward love, as schoolboys from their books;But love from love, toward school with heavy looks.

Love thyself last: cherish those hearts that hate thee;Corruption wins not more than honesty.

Love like a shadow flies when substance love pursues;Pursuing that that flies, and flying what pursues.

Many can brook (endure) the weather that love not the wind

Misshapen chaos of well-seeming forms!Feather of lead, bright smoke, cold fire, sick health!. . . This love feel I.

I had rather be a toad And live upon the vapor of a dungeon Than keep a corner in the thing I love For others' uses

For stony limits cannot hold love out.And what love can do that dares love attempt.

If thou remember'st not the slightest folly that ever love did make thee run into, thou hast not loved.

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.

My bounty is as boundless as the sea, my love as deep. The more I give thee, the more I have, For both are infinite

Beauty, wit, High birth, vigour of bone, desert in service, Love, friendship, charity, are subjects all To envious and calumniating time.

I love you with so much of my heart that none is left to protest.

What light through yonder window breaks?

For to be wise and love exceeds man's might.

Tempt not a desperate man

When you depart from me sorrow abides and happiness takes his leave.

Benvolio: What sadness lengthens Romeo's hours? Romeo: Not having that, which, having, makes them short.

O, she's warm! If this be magic, let it be an art Lawful as eating.

My only love sprung from my only hate.

Where love is great, the littlest doubts are fear; Where little fears grow great, great love grows there.

Never; he will not: Age cannot wither her, nor custom stale Her infinite variety: other women cloy The appetites they feed: but she makes hungry Where most she satisfies;

Is love a tender thing? It is too rough, too rude, too boisterous, and it pricks like thorn.

She's beautiful, and therefore to be wooed; She is a woman, therefore to be won.

Ay me! for aught that ever I could read, could ever hear by tale or history, the course of true love never did run smooth.

I do love nothing in the world so well as you- is not that strange?

Love goes toward love as schoolboys from their books, But love from love, toward school with heavy looks.

Love that well which thou must leave ere long.

What's done is done. The joy is in the doing.

O Romeo, Romeo! wherefore art thou Romeo? Deny thy father and refuse thy name; Or, if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love... 'Tis but thy name that is my enemy; What's in a name? that which we call a rose By any other name would smell as sweet...

I may command where I adore.

A pair of star-crossed lovers.

Love`s reason`s without reason

O, then, what graces in my love do dwell, that he hath turn'd a heaven unto hell

My love admits no qualifying dross

She cannot love, nor take no shape nor project or affection, she is so self-endeared

The chameleon Love can feed on the air

The ostentation of our love, which, left unshown, is often left unloved.

This thou perceivest, which makes thy love more strong, to love that well which thou must leave ere long

What power is it which mounts my love so high, that makes me see, and cannot feed mine eye

Alas, their love may be call'd appetite. No motion of the liver, but the palate

All fancy-sick she is and pale of cheer, with sighs of love, that costs the fresh blood dear.

And ruin`d love when it is built anew, grows fairer than at first, more strong, far greater

Be like you thought our love would last too long, if it were chain'd together

But miserable most, to love unloved? This you should pity rather than despise

But the strong base and building of my love is as the very centre of the earth, drawing all things to it.

By heaven, I do love: and it hath taught me to rhyme, and to be mekancholy.

Even as one heat another heat expels, or as one nail by strength drives out another, so the remembrance of my former love is by a newer object quite forgotten.

If love be blind, it best agrees with night

If love be blind, love cannot hit the mark

If they love they know not why, they hate upon no better ground, they hate upon no better a ground

Love surfeits not, Lust like a glutton dies; Love is all truth, Lust full of forged lies

Love thrives not in the heart that shadows dreadeth

Against love's fire fear`s frost hath dissolution

Let me confess that we two must be twain, although our undivided loves are one.

Love adds a precious seeing to the eye.

Why, friends, you go to do you know not what: Wherein hath Caesar thus deserved your loves? Alas, you know not: I must tell you then: You have forgot the will I told you of. . . . . Here is the will, and under Caesar's seal. To every Roman citizen he gives, To every several man, seventy-five drachmas. . . . . Moreover, he hath left you all his walks, His private arbours and new-planted orchards, On this side Tiber; he hath left them you, And to your heirs for ever, common pleasures, To walk abroad, and recreate yourselves. Here was a Caesar! when comes such another?

Love moderately; long love doth so; too swift arrives as tardy as too slow.

CLEOPATRA: If it be love indeed, tell me how much. ANTONY: There's beggary in the love that can be reckoned. CLEOPATRA: I'll set a bourne how far to be belov'd. ANTONY: Then must thou needs find out new heaven, new earth.

Brutus, I do observe you now of late: I have not from your eyes that gentleness And show of love as I was wont to have: You bear too stubborn and too strange a hand Over your friend that loves you. Poor Brutus, with himself at war, Forgets the shows of love to other men.

Young Adam Cupid, he that shot so trim, When King Cophetua loved the beggar-maid!

That strain again! It had a dying fall: O, it came o'er my ear like the sweet sound That breathes upon a bank of violets, Stealing and giving odour! Enough; no more: 'Tis not so sweet as it was before.

My mistress' eyes are nothing like the sun

They love least that let men know their loves.

I am bewitched with the rogue's company. If the rascal have not given me medicines to make me love him, I'll be hanged.

Some men there are love not a gaping pig, some that are mad if they behold a cat, and others when the bagpipe sings I the nose cannot contain their urine.

O world, world! thus is the poor agent despised. O traitors and bawds, how earnestly are you set a-work, and how ill requited! Why should our endeavor be so loved, and the performance so loathed?

A gentleman that loves to hear himself talk, will speak more in a minute than he will stand to in a month.

To business that we love we rise betime, and go to't with delight.

When love begins to sicken and decay it uses an enforced ceremony.

Many can brook the weather that love not the wind.

A young man married is a man that's marred.

I would not wish any companion in the world but you.

Men have died from time to time, and worms have eaten them, but not for love.

Self-love, my liege, is not so vile a sin, as self-neglecting.

Don't waste your love on somebody, who doesn't value it.

That man that hath a tongue, I say is no man, if with his tongue he cannot win a woman.

There was a star danced, and under that was I born.

I am giddy, expectation whirls me round. The imaginary relish is so sweet That it enchants my sense.

To be wise and love exceeds man's might.

When my love swears that she is made of truth, I do believe her, though know she lies

Love is begun by time and time qualifies the spark and fire of it.

No sooner met but they looked; no sooner looked but they loved; no sooner loved but they sighed; no sooner sighed but they asked one another the reason; no sooner knew the reason but they sought the remedy; and in these degrees have they made a pair of stairs to marriage...

I love thee, I love thee with a love that shall not die. Till the sun grows cold and the stars grow old.

And when love speaks, the voice of all the gods makes Heaven drowsy with the harmony.

Friendship is constant in all other things, save in the office and affairs of love.

Excellent wretch! Perdition catch my soul But I do love thee! and when I love thee not, Chaos is come again.

Is it thy will, thy image should keep open My heavy eyelids to the weary night? Dost thou desire my slumbers should be broken, While shadows like to thee do mock my sight? Is it thy spirit that thou send'st from thee So far from home into my deeds to pry, To find out shames and idle hours in me, The scope and tenor of thy jealousy? O, no! thy love, though much, is not so great: It is my love that keeps mine eye awake: Mine own true love that doth my rest defeat, To play the watchman ever for thy sake: For thee watch I, whilst thou dost wake elsewhere, From me far off, with others all too near.

But I will wear my heart upon my sleeve For daws to peck at: I am not what I am.

To say the truth, reason and love keep little company together now-a-days.

But love is blind, and lovers cannot see What petty follies they themselves commit

But love is blind, and lovers cannot see The pretty follies that themselves commit, For if they could, Cupid himself would blush To see me thus transformed to a boy

We cannot fight for love as men may do; We should be woo'd, and were not made to woo

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

And when love speaks, the voice of all the godsMakes heaven drowsy with the harmony.

So true a fool is love that in your will,Though you do anything, he thinks no ill.

Days of absence, sad and dreary, Clothed in sorrow's dark array, Days of absence, I am weary; She I love is far away.