William Shakespeare Women Quotations

Men are April when they woo, December when they wed. Maids are May when they are maids, but the sky changes when they are wives.

Women may fall when there's no strength in men.

Have you not heard it said full oft, A woman's nay doth stand for naught?

Two women placed together makes cold weather.

Fair ladies, masked, are roses in their bud; Dismasked, the damask sweet commixture shown, Are angels vailing clouds, or roses blown.

O most delicate fiend! Who is't can read a woman? Is there more?

Fear and niceness, the handmaids of all women, or more truly, woman its pretty self.

Ah me, how weak a thing The heart of woman is!

A woman impudent and mannish grown Is not more loath'd than an effeminate man.

I am not prone to weeping as our sex commonly are; the want of which vain dew perchance shall dry your pities; but I have that honorable grief lodged here which burns worse than tears drown.

The lady doth protest too much, methinks.

I cannot be a man with wishing, therefore I will die a woman with grieving.

Haply a woman's voice may do some good When articles too nicely urged be stood on.

Women's weapons, water-drops.

Tis not a year or two shows us a man: They are all but stomachs, and we all but food; They eat us hungerly, and when they are full They belch us.

Nay, we must think men are not gods, Nor of them look for such observancy As fits the bridal.

I have nothing Of woman in me; now from head to foot I am marble-constant.

The tongues of mocking wenches are as keen As is the razor's edge invisible.

Women are as roses, whose fair flower, being once displayed, doth fall that very hour.

Dispute not with her: she is lunatic.

Do you not know I am a woman? when I think, I must speak.

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;

A woman is a dish for the gods, if the devil dress her not.

A woman moved is like a fountain troubled, Muddy, ill-seeming, thick, bereft of beauty.

I have no other but a woman's reason: I think him so, because I think him so.

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.

Age cannot wither her, nor custom stale Her infinite variety, other women cloy

All the world's a stage, and the men and women merely players. They have their exits and their entrances, and one man in his time plays many parts.

All the world's a stage, And all the men and women merely players; They have their exits and their entrances; And one man in his time plays many parts, His acts being seven ages

All the world's a stage and all the men and women merely players.