Quotable Shakespeare

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Can you name the Shakespeare plays from which these quotes are taken?

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Just to refresh: All's Well, As You Like It, Comedy of Errors, Love's Labour's, Measure for Measure, Merchant, Merry Wives, Much Ado, Taming of the Shrew, Tempest, Twelfth Night, Two Gents, Winter's Tale, Cymbeline, Henry IV (Parts I & II), Henry V, Henry VI (Parts I-III), Henry VIII, King John, Pericles, Richard II, Richard III, Antony & Cleopatra, Coriolanus, Hamlet, Julius Caesar, King Lear, Macbeth, Othello, R & J, Timon, Titus, and Troilus & Cressida.
Now is the winter of our discontent made glorious summer by this sun of York.
I am dying, Egypt, dying.
Then must you speak of one that loved not wisely, but too well.
When we are born we cry that we are come to this great stage of fools.
Oh, how full of briers is this working-day world!
Action is eloquence.
I think Crab, my dog, be the sourest-natured dog that lives.
Methinks you are my glass, and not my brother: I see by you I am a sweet-faced youth.
I have set my life upon a cast, and I will stand the hazard of the die.
If music be the food of love, play on.
Out, damned spot! Out, I say!
Submission, Dolphin? ’Tis a mere French word. We English warriors wot not what it means.
O beware, my lord, of jealousy! It is the green-eyed monster, which doth mock the meat it feeds on.
Villain, I have done thy mother.
If you can mock a leek you can eat a leek.
A plague upon it when thieves cannot be true one to another!
Nothing comes amiss, so money comes withal.
I will beat thee into handsomeness.
For you the city, thus I turn my back. There is a world elsewhere!
How art thou out of breath when thou hast breath to say to me that thou art out of breath?
The devil can cite scripture for his purpose.
Parting is such sweet sorrow that I shall say good night till it be morrow.
Be not afraid of greatness. Some are born great, some achieve greatness, and some have greatness thrust upon them.
Oftentimes excusing of a fault doth make the fault the worse by the excuse.
She swore in faith ‘twas strange, ‘twas passing strange, ‘twas pitiful, ‘twas wondrous pitiful.
Nay, put out all your hands. Not one word more: thus part we rich in sorrow, parting poor.
A plague o’ both your houses. I am sped.
The rest is silence.
There is a tide in the affairs of men which, taken at the flood, leads on to fortune.
Fools on both sides! Helen must needs be fair, when with your blood you daily paint her thus.
I come to wive it wealthily in Padua; if wealthily, then happily in Padua.
O wonderful, wonderful! And most wonderful wonderful! And yet again wonderful! And after that out of all whooping.
But we in it shall be remembered, we few, we happy few, we band of brothers.
And if his name be George, I'll call him Peter; for new-made honour doth forget men's names.
Our doubts are traitors, and make us lose the good we oft might win by fearing to attempt.
All the world’s a stage, and all the men and women merely players.
How far that little candle throws his beams! So shines a good deed in a naughty world.
I have drunk, and seen the spider.
But screw your courage to the sticking-place, and we’ll not fail.
And thus the whirligig of time brings in his revenges.
O thou invisible spirit of wine, if thou hast no name to be known by, let us call thee devil!
The smallest worm will turn, being trodden upon.
Men shut their doors against a setting sun.
O, give me the spare men, and spare me the great ones.
Reason thus with life: If I do lose thee, I do lose a thing that none but fools would keep.
Uneasy lies a head that wears a crown.
Cease to persuade, my loving Proteus; home-keeping youth have ever homely wits.
I charge and command that, at the city’s cost, the Pissing Conduit run nothing but claret wine this first year of our reign.
With all my heart I’ll send the emperor my hand. Good Aaron, wilt thou help to chop it off?
Some rise by sin, and some by virtue fall.
They say he is already in the Forest of Arden, and a many merry men with him.
But for mine own part, it was Greek to me.
Cry “Havoc!” and let slip the dogs of war.
This wimpled, whining, purblind, wayward boy, this Signor Junior, giant dwarf, Dan Cupid.
All that glisters is not gold.
Nay, faith, let me not play a woman. I have a beard coming.
Is love a tender thing? It is too rough, too rude, too boisterous, and it pricks like thorn.
I were better to be eaten to death with a rust than to be scoured to nothing with perpetual motion.
My salad days—when I was green in judgment, cold in blood.
Double, double toil and trouble: Fire, burn; and cauldron, bubble.
She is spherical, like a globe; I could find out countries in her.
A fish: he smells like a fish, a very ancient and fish-like smell.
Patience is for poltroons.
From women’s eyes this doctrine I derive: they sparkle still the right Promethean fire.
How oft the sight of means to do ill deeds makes ill deeds done!
Speak the speech, I pray you, as I pronounced it to you—trippingly on the tongue.
But soft, what light through yonder window breaks?
You may my glories and my state depose, but not my griefs; still am I king of those.
Men must endure their going hence even as their coming hither. Ripeness is all.
Was ever woman in this humour wooed? Was ever woman in this humour won?
Out, vile jelly, where is thy luster now?
This above all, to thine own self be true and it must follow as the night the day thou canst not then be false to any man.
O! What men dare do! What men may do! What men daily do, not knowing what they do!
Is this a dagger, which I see before me, the handle toward my hand?
Heat not a furnace for your foe so hot that it do singe yourself.
A young man married is a man that’s marred.
‘Against my will I am sent to bid you come in to dinner,’ there’s a double meaning in that.
I charge thee, fling away ambition: by that sin fell the angels.
When I am cold, he heats me with beating; when I am warm he cools me with beating.
Should all despair that have revolted wives, the tenth of mankind would hang themselves.
We are such stuff as dreams are made on, and our little life is rounded with a sleep.
The rarer action is in virtue than in vengeance.
Misery acquaints a man with strange bedfellows!
If you find him sad, say I am dancing; if in mirth, report that I am sudden sick.
No epilogue, I pray you; for your play needs no excuse.
Our English troops retire, I cannot stay them; a woman clad in armor chaseth them.
Every subject’s duty is the King’s, but every subject’s soul is his own.
A horse, a horse! My kingdom for a horse!
This was the most unkindest cut of all.
I could endure anything before but a cat, and now he’s a cat to me.
But, masters, remember that I am an ass; though it be not written down, yet forget not that I am an ass.
All is uneven, and everything is left at six and seven.
Beware the ides of March.
If sack and sugar be a fault, God help the wicked.
If you prick us, do we not bleed? If you tickle us, do we not laugh? If you poison us, do we not die? And if you wrong us, shall we not revenge?
If we shadows have offended, think but this, and all is mended: that you have but slumbered here while these visions did appear.
The time of universal peace is near.
I wasted time, and now doth Time waste me.
How sharper than a serpent’s tooth it is to have a thankless child.
What’s in a name? That which we call a rose by any other word would smell as sweet.
But he that filches from me my good name robs me of that which not enriches him and makes me poor indeed.
If one good deed in all my life I did I do repent it from my very soul.
Take then thy bond, take thou thy pound of flesh.
Words, words, words.
’Tis such fools as you that makes the world full of ill-favored children.
Life is as tedious as a twice-told tale, vexing the dull ear of a drowsy man.
What light is light, if Silvia be not seen? What joy is joy, if Silvia be not by?
The quality of mercy is not strain’d, it droppeth as the gentle rain from heaven upon the place beneath.
Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow, creeps in this petty pace from day to day, to the last syllable of recorded time.
The first thing we do, let’s kill all the lawyers.
No man alive can love in such a sort the thing he means to kill more excellently.
Take but degree away, untune that string, and hark what discord follows.
Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind, and therefore is winged cupid painted blind.
We have heard the chimes at midnight, Master Shallow.
He’s in the third degree of drink; he’s drowned.
Here will be an old abusing of God's patience and the king's English.
Why, as men do a-land; the great ones eat up the little ones.
Beauty provoketh thieves sooner than gold.
There is nothing either good or bad, but thinking makes it so.
Come, be a man! Drown thyself? Drown cats and blind puppies.
Our wooing doth not end like an old play: Jack hath not Jill.
O, it is excellent to have a giant’s strength, but it is tyrannous to use it like a giant.
Something is rotten in the state of Denmark.
This is the way to kill a wife with kindness.
Glory is like a circle in the water, which never ceaseth to enlarge itself till by broad spreading it disperse to naught.
The better part of valor is discretion, in the which better part I have saved my life.
Kiss me Kate, we will be married o' Sunday.
If we are marked to die, we are enough to do our country loss. And if to live, the fewer men, the greater share of honor.
By the pricking of my thumbs, something wicked this way comes.
Golden lads and girls all must, as chimney-sweepers, come to dust.
There was never virgin got till virginity was first lost.
’Tis time to fear when tyrants seem to kiss.
He was a kind of nothing, titleless, till he had forged himself a name o’th’fire of burning Rome.
Blow winds and crack your cheeks! Rage, blow!
Kill Claudio.
I had rather hear my dog bark at a crow than a man swear he loves me.
There is divinity in odd numbers; either in nativity, chance, or death.
Nothing will come of nothing. Speak again.
She has brown hair, and speaks small like a woman.
This blessed plot, this earth, this realm, this England.
The devil shall have his bargain, for he was never yet a breaker of proverbs; he will give the devil his due.
If this were played upon a stage now, I could condemn it as an improbable fiction.
Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more, or close the wall up with our English dead.
But kiss: one kiss! Rubies unparagoned, how dearly they do't!
Give me a staff of honour for mine age, but not a sceptre to control the world.
Blush, blush, thou lump of foul deformity.
Away with him, away with him! He speaks Latin.
Shall we their fond pageant see? Lord, what fools these mortals be!
On her left breast a mole cinque-spotted, like the crimson drops I' the bottom of a cowslip.
I’ll go see if the bear be gone from the gentleman, and how much he hath eaten…if there be any of him left, I’ll bury it.

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