Best 25 quotes of Shakespeare on MyQuotes

A murderer and a villain; a slave that is not twentieth part the tithe of your precedent lord; a vice of kings; a cutpurse of the empire and the rule

...Her passions are made of nothing but the finest part of pure love; we cannot call her winds and waters, sighs and tears; they are greater storms and tempests than almanacs can report...

Huye siempre de mezclarte en disputas; pero una vez metido en ellas, obra de manera que tu contrario huya de ti.

If music is the food of love, play on.

I know you all, and will awhile uphold the unyoked humour of your idleness . . .

In emerald tufts, flowers purple, blue and white; Like sapphire, pearl, and rich embroidery, Buckled below fair knighthood's bending knee; Fairies use flower for their charactery.

In the corrupted currents of this world Offence's gilded hand may shove by justice, And oft 'tis seen the wicked prize itself Buys out the law. . . (Claudius, from Hamlet, Act 3, scene 3)

Morir es dormir... y tal vez soñar.

My tongue will tell the anger of my heart.

Not that I think you did not love your father; ut that I know love is begun by time; and that I see, in passages of proof, time quilifies the spark and fire of it. There lives within the ery flame of love a kind of wick or snuff that will abate it; and nothing is at a like goodness still; for goodnes, growing to a plurisy, dies in his own too much: that we would do, we should do when we would; for this "would" changes and hath abatements and delays as many as tere are tongues, are hands, are accidents; and then this "should" is like a spendthrift sigh, that hurts by easing. But, to the quick o' the ulcer: what would you undertake, to show yourself your father's son in deed more than in words?

Observe him, for the love of mockery

OFELIA. ¡Qué corto ha sido! HAMLET. Como cariño de mujer.

O good Horatio, what a wounded name, Things standing thus unknown, shall live behind me! If thou didst ever hold me in thy heart Absent thee from felicity awhile, And in this harsh world draw thy breath in pain, To tell my story. . . O, I die, Horatio;

Perfume de un momento nada más.

¿Quién podría tolerar tanta opresión, sudando gimiendo bajo el peso de una vida molesta si no fuese que el temor de que existe alguna cosa más allá de la Muerte (aquel país desconocido de cuyos límites ningún caminante torna) nos embaraza en dudas y nos hace sufrir los males que nos cercan; antes que ir a buscar otros de que no tenemos seguro conocimiento?

Sabemos lo que somos ahora, pero no lo que podemos ser.

Sell when you can: you are not for all markets

Si el hombre, al terminar su vida, ignora siempre lo que podría ocurrir después, ¿qué importaría que la pierda tarde o presto?

Si a los hombres se les hubiese juzgado según merecen, ¿quién se escaparía de ser azotado?

Then to the elements be free

This is the very ecstasy of love, Whose violent property fordoes itself And leads the will to desperate undertakings As oft as any passion under heaven That does afflict our natures.

Well said, old mole!

We were, fair queen, / Two lads that thought there was no more behind / But such a day to-morrow as to-day, / And to be boy eternal.

Where, like Arion on the dolphin's back, I saw him hold acquaintance with the waves so long as I could see.

Who would fardels bear, To groan and sweat under a weary life, But that the dread of something after death, The undiscovered country, from whose bourn No traveller returns, puzzles the will, And makes us rather bear those ills we have Than fly to others that we know not of? Thus, conscience does make cowards of us all;