Search & Filter Quotes and Notes

Suffolk
Within the Temple Hall we were too loud;
The garden here is more convenient.
Plantagenet
Then say at once if I maintained the truth,
Or else was wrangling Somerset in th’ error?
Suffolk
Faith, I have been a truant in the law
And never yet could frame my will to it,
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Paulina
Woe the while!
O, cut my lace, lest my heart, cracking it,
Break too!
Lord
What fit is this, good lady?
Paulina, to Leontes
What studied torments, tyrant, hast for me?
What wheels, racks, fires? What flaying? Boiling
In leads or oils? What old or newer torture
Must I receive, whose every word deserves
To taste of thy most worst?
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Women will love her, that she is a woman
More worth than any man; men, that she is
The rarest of all womenEllipsis
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Hamlet
Words, words, words.Epizeuxis
Polonius
What is the matter, my lord?
Hamlet
Between who?
Polonius
I mean the matter Antanaclesisthat you read, my lord.

Though this be madness, yet there is
method in ‘t.

Hamlet
Slanders,
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Menenius
Worthy Cominius, speak.
 Coriolanus rises and offers to go away.
Nay, keep your place.
First Senator
Sit, Coriolanus. Never shame to hear
What you have nobly done.

I had rather have my wounds to heal again
Than hear say how I got them.

Coriolanus
Your Honors,
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King John
Would not my lords return to me again
After they heard young Arthur was alive?
Bastard
They found him dead and cast into the streets,
An empty casket where the jewel of life
By some damned hand was robbed and ta'en away.
King John
That villain Hubert told me he did live!
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King Richard
Wrath-kindled gentlemen, be ruled by me.
Let’s purge this choler without letting blood.
This we prescribe, though no physician.
Deep malice makes too deep incision.

Forget, forgive; conclude and be agreed.
Our doctors say this is no month to bleed.

Forget, forgive; conclude and be agreed.
Our doctors say this is no month to bleed.—
Good uncle,
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Posthumus 
Yea, bloody cloth, I’ll keep thee, for I wished
Thou shouldst be colored thus. You married ones,
If each of you should take this course, how many
Must murder wives much better than themselves
For wrying but a little!

You snatch some hence for little faults; that’s love,
To have them fall no more;
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Dogberry
Yea, marry, let them come before me.
  Conrade and Borachio are brought forward.
What is your name, friend?
Borachio
Borachio.
Dogberry
Pray, write down “Borachio.”—Yours, sirrah?
Conrade
I am a gentleman, sir, and my name is Conrade.

O, villain! Thou wilt be condemned
into everlasting redemption for this!
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Edgar
Yet better thus, and known to be contemned,
Than still contemned and flattered. To be worst,
The lowest and most dejected thing of Fortune,
Stands still in esperance, lives not in fear.
The lamentable change is from the best;
The worst returns to laughter. Welcome, then,
Thou unsubstantial air that I embrace.
The wretch that thou hast blown unto the worst
Owes nothing to thy blasts.
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Macbeth
Yet my heart
Throbs to know one thing. Tell me, if your art
Can tell so much: shall Banquo’s issue ever
Reign in this kingdom?
All
Seek to know no more.

Show his eyes and grieve his heart.
Come like shadows; so depart.

Macbeth
I will be satisfied.
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Page
Yonder is a most reverend gentleman who, belike
having received wrong by some person, is at
most odds with his own gravity and patience that
ever you saw.
Shallow
I have lived fourscore years and upward. I never
heard a man of his place, gravity, and learning
so wide of his own respect.
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You are a thousand times a properer man
Than she a woman. ‘Tis such fools as you
That makes the world full of ill-favor'd children.
‘Tis not her glass, but you that flatters her,
And out of you she sees herself more proper
Than any of her lineaments can show her.
But, mistress, know yourself, down on your knees,
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You are dull, Casca; and those sparks of life
That should be in a Roman you do want,
Or else you use not. You look pale, and gaze,
And put on fear, and cast yourself in wonder,Polysyndeton
To see the strange impatience of the heavens;
But if you would consider the true cause
Why all these fires,
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Belarius, as Morgan, to Fidele
You are not well. Remain here in the cave.
We’ll come to you after hunting.
Arviragus, as Cadwal, to Fidel
Brother, stay here.
Are we not brothers?

I am ill, but your being by me
Cannot amend me. Society is no comfort
To one not sociable.
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You are sent for to the Capitol. ‘Tis thought
That Martius shall be consul.
I have seen the dumb men throng to see him, and
The blind to hear him speak. Matrons flung gloves,
Ladies and maids their scarfs and handkerchers,
Upon him as he pass'd; the nobles bended,
As to Jove's statue, and the commons made
A shower and thunder with their caps and shouts.
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John of Lancaster
You are well encountered here, my cousin Mowbray.—
Good day to you, gentle Lord Archbishop,—
And so to you, Lord Hastings, and to all.—
My Lord of York, it better showed with you
When that your flock, assembled by the bell,
Encircled you to hear with reverence
Your exposition on the holy text
Than now to see you here,
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Chamberlain
You bear a gentle mindSynecdoche, and heav’nly blessings
Follow such creatures. That you may, fair lady,
Perceive I speak sincerely, and high note’s
Ta’en of your many virtues, the King’s Majesty
Commends his good opinion of you to you, and
Does purpose honor to youAnthimeria no less flowing
Than Marchioness of Pembroke,
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