William Shakespeare - Art Quotes

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Shall there be gallows standing in England when thou art king, and resolution thus fobbed as it is with the rusty curb of old father antick, the law.

William Shakespeare
In sweet music is such art: killing care and grief of heart fall asleep, or hearing, die.

William Shakespeare
What man art thou that, thus bescreened in night, So stumblest on my counsel? *Who are you? Why do you hide in the darkness and listen to my private thoughts?*

William Shakespeare
Yet do I fear thy nature; It is too full o' the milk of human kindness To catch the nearest way: thou wouldst be great; Art not without ambition, but without The illness should attend it: what thou wouldst highly, That wouldst thou holily; wouldst not play false, And yet wouldst wrongly win:

William Shakespeare
I say there is no darkness but ignorance, in which thou art more puzzled than the Egyptians in their fog.

William Shakespeare
O good old man! how well in thee appears
The constant service of the antique world,
When service sweat for duty, not for meed!
Thou art not for the fashion of these times,
Where none will sweat but for promotion.

William Shakespeare
Thou art an elm, my husband, I a vine,
Whose weakness, married to thy stronger state,
Makes me with thy strength to communicate.

William Shakespeare
O spirit of love! how quick and fresh art thou, That, notwithstanding thy capacity Receiveth as the sea, nought enters there, Of what validity and pitch soe'er, But falls into abatement and low price, Even in a minute: so full of shapes is fancy, That it alone is high fantastical.

William Shakespeare
Thou art a soul in bliss; but I am bound
Upon a wheel of fire, that mine own tears
Do scald like molten lead.

William Shakespeare
Be wise as thou art cruel, do not press My tongue-tied patience with too much disdain: Lest sorrow lend me words and words express, The manner of my pity-wanting pain...

William Shakespeare
O call not me to justify the wrong, That thy unkindness lays upon my heart, Wound me not with thine eye but with thy tongue, Use power with power, and slay me not by art,...

William Shakespeare
Fear no more the heat o' the sun,
Nor the furious winter's rages;
Thou thy worldly task hast done,
Home art gone and ta'en thy wages:
Golden lads and girls all must,
As chimney-sweepers, come to dust.

William Shakespeare
Farewell! thou art too dear for my possessing, And like enough thou know'st thy estimate.

William Shakespeare
For where thou art, there is the world itself, With every several pleasure in the world, And where thou art not, desolation.

William Shakespeare
O mischief, thou art swift to enter in the thoughts of desperate men!

William Shakespeare
I want that glib and oily art
To speak and purpose not.

William Shakespeare
O, teach me how you look, and with what art You sway the motion of Demetrius' heart."-Helena

William Shakespeare
O! thou hast damnable iteration, and art, indeed, able to corrupt a saint.

William Shakespeare
What infinite heart's ease Must kings neglect that private men enjoy! And what have kings that privates have not too, Save ceremony, save general ceremony? And what art thou, thou idol ceremony? What kind of god art thou, that suffer'st more Of mortal griefs than do thy worshippers? What are thy rents? what are thy comings-in? O ceremony! show me but thy worth.

William Shakespeare
A breath thou art,
Servile to all the skyey influences.

William Shakespeare
Thou art the cause, and most accursed effect.

William Shakespeare
Desiring this man's art, and that man's scope, With what I most enjoy contented least; Yet in these thoughts myself almost despising, Haply I think on thee.

William Shakespeare
Moth: They have been at a great feast of languages, and stolen the scraps.
Costard: O! they have lived long on the alms-basket of words. I marvel thy master hath not eaten thee for a word; for thou art not so long by the head as honorificabilitudinitatibus: thou art easier swallowed than a flap-dragon.

William Shakespeare
O thou weed!
Who art so lovely fair and smell'st so sweet That the sense aches at thee, would thou hadst
ne'er been born.

William Shakespeare
O Ceremony, show me but thy worth? What is thy soul of adoration? Art thou aught else but place, degree, and form, Creating awe and fear in other men?

William Shakespeare