Can we have a conversation using just quotes from Shakespeare?

“I like this place and willingly could waste my time in it”- Act 2 scene 4:-)

Forsooth.

“To thine own self be true, and it must follow, as the night the day, thou canst not then be false to any man.”

“You pay a great deal too dear for what’s given freely”. Winter’s Tale (Act I, Scene I)

Are we just quoting Bill here, or is there a topic we should discuss other than “favorite quotations from Shakespeare?”

“Words, words, words.”

I was hoping to be contextual. I had the general sense we were talking about Fluther, given a couple of quotes above. The forsoothiness threw me.

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

Men of few words are the best men. (Henry V, 3.2.41)

“That it should come to this!”.

By the pricking of my thumbs,
Something wicked this way comes.
(Macbeth, 4.1)

Why?

If you prick us, do we not bleed?

“Go prick thy face, and over-red thy fear, thou lily-liver’d boy.”

God has given you one face, and you make yourself another —Hamlet

“Your face, my thane, is as a book where men may read strange matters.”

I am not bound to please thee with my answer.

“Pleasure and action make the hours seem short.”

“And gentlemen in England now a bed shall think themselves accursed they were not here”

Methought I heard a voice cry, “Sleep no more! Macbeth
does murder sleep,”—the innocent sleep,
Sleep that knits up the ravell’d sleave of care.

I have not slept one wink.

villain, I have done thy mother.

O, from this time forth,
My thoughts be bloody, or be nothing worth!

Caparison my horse!

There is nothing either good or bad, but thinking makes it so.

full of wise care is this your council madam

The fool doth think he is wise, but the wise man knows himself to be a fool.

You know me by my habit!

I have more care to stay than will to go.

For God’s sake, let us not remain behind.

What? With my tongue in your tail?

Still have I borne it with a patient shrug.

Thou dost thy office fairly

Sir, he’s a good dog and a fair dog.

I had rather hear my dog bark at a crow, than a man swear he loves me.

Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind,
And therefore is winged Cupid painted blind.

Who ever loved that loved not at first sight?

” Love sought is good, but given unsought, is better.”

This momentary joy breeds months of pain;
This hot desire converts to cold disdain.

A pox o’ your throat, you bawling, blasphemous, incharitable dog!

Such antics do not amount to a man.

I shall laugh myself to death at this puppy-headed
monster!

With mirth and laughter, let old wrinkles come.

Men shut their doors against a setting sun.

Fear no more the heat o’ the sun, nor the furious winter’s rages.

Now is the season of our discontent…

The childing autumn, angry winter, change
Their wonted liveries, and the mazed world,
By their increase, now knows not which is which.

[Mod sayeth] Upon the heat and flame of thy distemper sprinkle cool patience.

Let us be jocund: will you troll the catch
You taught me but while-ere?

Drats!!! I meant to write… “Now is the winter of our discontent…”

O God, O God, how weary, stale, flat, and unprofitable seem to me all the uses of this world!

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

“One touch of nature makes the whole world kin.”

Like the lily,
That once was mistress of the field and flourish’d,
I’ll hang my head and perish.

How do I love thee fluther, let me count the ways…

When I do count the clock that tells the time,
And see the brave day sunk in hideous night;

Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow,
Creeps in this petty pace from day to day,
To the last syllable of recorded time;
And all our yesterdays have lighted fools
The way to dusty death.

Last scene of all, That ends this strange eventful history, Is second childishness and mere oblivion, Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything.

“Good Night, Good night! Parting is such sweet sorrow, that I shall say good night till it be morrow.” – (Romeo & Juliet, Act II, Scene II).

Now cracks a noble heart. Good night sweet prince:
And flights of angels sing thee to thy rest!

O sun, thy uprise shall I see no more! Antony and Cleoptra IV.12

Pay no worship to the garish sun.

One fairer than my love! the all-seeing sun.

Men shut their doors against a setting sun.

“Love me or hate me, both are in my favor…If you love me, I’ll always be in your heart…If you hate me, I’ll always be in your mind.”
by William Shakespeare

Here’s a knocking indeed! If a man were porter of Hell Gate,
he should have old turning the key. [Knock] Knock, knock,

(Oops I was responding to Tropical)

What’s done can’t be undone.

True is it that we have seen better days.

To be or not to be? Not to be.

He is deformed, crooked, old and sere,
Ill-faced, worse bodied, shapeless everywhere;
Vicious, ungentle, foolish, blunt, unkind;
Stigmatical in making, worse in mind.

I,that am curtail’d of this fair proportion, cheated of feature by dissembling nature, deformed, unfinished, sent before my time into this breathing world scarce half made up, and that so lamely that dogs bark at me as I halt by them

Thou callest me a dog before thou hast cause. But since I am a dog, beware my fangs.
The Merchant of Venice

I had RATHER be a dog and bay the moon.

I say it is the moon that shines so bright.

Taming of the Shrew, Act V, Scene 1

“O, swear not by the moon, the fickle moon, the inconstant moon, that monthly changes in her circle orb, lest that thy love prove likewise variable.”

Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day?
Thou art more lovely and more temperate:
Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,
And summer’s lease hath all too short a date:
Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines,
And often is his gold complexion dimm’d;
And every fair from fair sometime declines,
By chance or nature’s changing course untrimm’d;
But thy eternal summer shall not fade
Nor lose possession of that fair thou owest;
Nor shall Death brag thou wander’st in his shade,
When in eternal lines to time thou growest:
So long as men can breathe or eyes can see,
So long lives this and this gives life to thee.

Sonnet 18

The seasons alter: hoary-headed frosts
Fall in the fresh lap of the crimson rose,
And on old Hiems’ thin and icy crown
An odorous chaplet of sweet summer buds
Is, as in mockery, set. The spring, the summer,
The childing autumn, angry winter, change
Their wonted liveries, and the mazed world,
By their increase, now knows not which is which.
A Midsummer Night’s Dream II.1

Now is the winter of our discontent
Made glorious summer by this son of York.

Richard III, Act 1, scene 1

The April’s in her eyes. It is love’s spring,
And these the showers to bring it on. Be cheerful.
Antony and Cleopatra III.2

‘When that the poor have cried, Caesar hath wept: Ambition should be made of sterner stuff’.
Julius Caesar

But, O, what form of prayer
Can serve my turn? ‘Forgive me my foul murther’?
That cannot be; since I am still possess’d
Of those effects for which I did the murther-
My crown, mine own ambition, and my queen.
May one be pardon’d and retain th’ offence?
Hamlet III.3

Kneel not to me.
The pow’r that I have on you is to spare you;
The malice towards you to forgive you. Live,
And deal with others better.

Well, heaven forgive him! and forgive us all!
Some rise by sin, and some by virtue fall:
Some run from brakes of ice, and answer none:
And some condemned for a fault alone.

—that these men, carrying, I say, the stamp of one defect, being nature’s-livery or Fortune’s star, his virtues else, be they as pure as grace as infinite as man may undergo, shall in the general censure take corruption from that particular fault. The dram of evil doth all the noble substance often dout to his own scandal.
Hamlet I.4

The mightier man, the mightier is the thing That makes him honored or begets him hate; For greatest scandal waits on greatest state.

Something is rotten in the state of Denmark.

There is nothing either good or bad but thinking makes it so.

I take no pleasure
In aught an eunuch has. ‘Tis well for thee
That, being unseminar’d, thy freer thoughts
May not fly forth of Egypt. Hast thou affections?
Antony and Cleopatra I.5

“I, measuring his affections by my own,
Which then most sought where most might not be found,
Being one too many by my weary self,
Pursued my humor not pursuing his,
And gladly shunned who gladly fled from me.” R&J

O that this too too solid flesh would melt,
Thaw, and resolve itself into a dew!
Or that the Everlasting had not fix’d
His canon ‘gainst self-slaughter! O God! God!
How weary, stale, flat, and unprofitable
Seem to me all the uses of this world!
Hamlet I.2

So, I saw this in Target the other day, and nearly died of laughter. Had to share, seemed like this was the best place.

Alas, poor Yorick! I knew him, Horatio: a fellow of infinite jest, of most excellent fancy: he hath borne me on his back a thousand times; and now, how abhorred in my imagination it is!

@Seek_Kolinahr Check out the audio sample!. Going to post this to the geek list

I prithee, shepherd, if that love or gold
Can in this desert place buy entertainment,
Bring us where we may rest ourselves and feed:
Here’s a young maid with travel much oppress’d
And faints for succor.

As You Like It, Act 2, Scene 5

O, when she’s angry, she is keen and shrewd! She was a vixen when she went to school; And though she be but little, she is fierce.

Midsummer

How sharper than a serpent’s tooth it is to have a thankless child.

It is a wise father that knows his own child.
The Merchant of Venice

The sins of the father are to be laid upon the children.

Who would be a father!
Othello (1.1.162)

This was great, everybody, thanks! This thread seems to be winding down, so I thought I’d end it with the following wonderful ending of Midsummer

If we shadows have offended,
Think but this, and all is mended,
That you have but slumber’d here
While these visions did appear.
And this weak and idle theme,
No more yielding but a dream,
Gentles, do not reprehend:
if you pardon, we will mend:
And, as I am an honest Puck,
If we have unearned luck
Now to ‘scape the serpent’s tongue,
We will make amends ere long;
Else the Puck a liar call;
So, good night unto you all.
Give me your hands, if we be friends,
And Robin shall restore amends.

Better a witty fool than a foolish wit.

All’s well that ends well.