All Quotes

"A Daniel, still say I, a second Daniel! I thank thee, Jew, for teaching me that word."

"Nay, take my life and all; pardon not that; You take my house, when you do take the prop That doth sustain my house; you take my life, When you do take the means whereby I live."

"I am content."

"He is well paid that is well satisfied."

"Lorenzo: The moon shines bright: in such a night as this, When the sweet wind did gently kiss the trees And they did make no noise, in such a night Troilus methinks mounted the Troyan walls, And sigh’d his soul toward the Grecian tents, Where Cressid lay that night. Jessica: In such a night Did Thisbe fearfully o’ertrip the dew, And saw the lion’s shadow ere himself. And ran dismay’d away. Lorenzo: In such a night Stood Dido with a willow in her hand Upon the wild sea-banks, and waft her love To come again to Carthage. Jessica: In such a night Medea gather’d the enchanted herbs That did renew old Æson. Lorenzo: In such a night Did Jessica steal from the wealthy Jew And with an unthrift love did run from Venice As far as Belmont. Jessica: In such a night Did young Lorenzo swear he loved her well, Stealing her soul with many vows of faith And ne’er a true one. Lorenzo: In such a night Did pretty Jessica, like a little shrew, Slander her love, and he forgave it her."

"A lion among ladies, is a most dreadful thing."

"How sweet the moonlight sleeps upon this bank! Here we will sit, and let the sounds of music Creep in our ears: soft stillness and the night Become the touches of sweet harmony. Sit, Jessica. Look how the floor of heaven Is thick inlaid with patines of bright gold: There’s not the smallest orb which thou behold’st But in his motion like an angel sings, Still quiring to the young-eyed cherubins; Such harmony is in immortal souls; But whilst this muddy vesture of decay Doth grossly close it in, we cannot hear it."

"I am never merry when I hear sweet music."

"The man that hath no music in himself, Nor is not moved with concord of sweet sounds, Is fit for treasons, stratagems and spoils; The motions of his spirit are dull as night, And his affections dark as Erebus: Let no such man be trusted."

"How far that little candle throws his beams! So shines a good deed in a naughty world."

"A substitute shines brightly as a king, Until a king be by."

"The crow doth sing as sweetly as the lark, When neither is attended"

"How many things by season season’d are To their right praise and true perfection! Peace, ho! the moon sleeps with Endymion, And would not be awaked."

"This night methinks is but the daylight sick."

"A light wife doth make a heavy husband."

"These blessed candles of the night."

"Fair ladies, you drop manna in the way Of starved people."

"We will answer all things faithfully."

"The Portia of our Chambers."

"I reviewed the other moments scholars cite to prove Shylock's "humanity." There were two lines of Shylock treasuring his dead wife's ring, unlike the play's Christian men who give their wives' rings away. But unlike the other men, Shylock never gets his ring back—because his daughter steals it, and becomes a Christian, and inherits what remains of his estate at the play's triumphant end. Then there was the trial scene, where modern actors often make Shylock seem tragic rather than horrific. But that was performance, not text. Finally, scholars point to the many times Shylock explains why he is so revolting: Christians treat him poorly, so he returns the favor. But for this to satisfy, one must accept that Jews are revolting to begin with, and that their repulsiveness simply needs to be explained. None of it worked. And then I saw just how deep the gaslighting went: I felt obligated to make it work, to contort this revolting material into something that excused it. I have a doctorate in literature. I am aware that Shakespeare's plays contain many layers and mean many things. But the degrading hideousness of this character is obvious even to a ten-year-old, and no matter how many more layers the play contains, that is unambiguously one of them."

"This inhumanity of mercenary commerce is the more notable because it is a fulfilment of the law that the corruption of the best is the worst. … And this is the ultimate lesson which the leader of English intellect meant for us … in the tale of the "Merchant of Venice"; in which the true and incorrupt merchant,—kind and free, beyond every other Shakespearian conception of men,—is opposed to the corrupted merchant, or usurer; the lesson being deepened by the expression of the strange hatred which the corrupted merchant bears to the pure one, mixed with intense scorn."

"Four days will quickly steep themselves in night; Four nights will quickly dream away the time; And then the moon, like to a silver bow New-bent in heaven, shall behold the night Of our solemnities."

"Hippolyta, I woo’d thee with my sword, And won thy love, doing thee injuries."

"To you your father should be as a god; ... To whom you are but as a form in wax By him imprinted."

"I would my father look’d but with my eyes."

"For aye to be in shady cloister mew’d, To live a barren sister all your life, Chanting faint hymns to the cold fruitless moon."

"Earthlier happy is the rose distill'd, Than that which, withering on the virgin thorn, Grows, lives, and dies, in single blessedness."

"For aught that I could ever read, Could ever hear by tale or history, The course of true love never did run smooth."

"O, hell! to choose love by another’s eyes."

"Swift as a shadow, short as any dream; Brief as the lightning in the collied night, That, in a spleen, unfolds both heaven and earth, And ere a man hath power to say 'Behold!' The jaws of darkness do devour it up: So quick bright things come to confusion."

"I swear to thee, by Cupid’s strongest bow, By his best arrow with the golden head, By the simplicity of Venus’ doves, By that which knitteth souls and prospers loves, ... By all the vows that ever men have broke, In number more than ever women spoke."

"Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind; And therefore is wing’d Cupid painted blind; Nor hath Love’s mind of any judgement taste; Wings, and no eyes, figure unheedy haste: And therefore is love said to be a child, Because in choice he is so oft beguiled."

"Quince: Marry, our play is, The most lamentable comedy, and most cruel death of Pyramus and Thisby. Bottom: A very good piece of work, I assure you, and a merry."

"Masters, spread yourselves."

"Bottom: What is Pyramus? a lover, or a tyrant? Quince: A lover, that kills himself most gallant for love."

"A part to tear a cat in, to make all split."

"This is Ercles’ vein."

"Nay, faith, let not me play a woman; I have a beard coming."

"I’ll speak in a monstrous little voice."

"I am slow of study."

"That would hang us, every mother’s son."

"I will roar you as gently as any sucking dove; I will roar you an ’twere any nightingale."

"A proper man, as one shall see in a summer’s day."

"We will meet; and there we may rehearse most obscenely and courageously."

"Enough; hold or cut bow-strings."

"How now, spirit! whither wander you?"

"Over hill, over dale, Thorough bush, thorough brier, Over park, over pale, Thorough flood, thorough fire, I do wander every where, Swifter than the moon’s sphere; And I serve the fairy queen, To dew her orbs upon the green. The cowslips tall her pensioners be: In their gold coats spots you see; Those be rubies, fairy favours, In those freckles live their savours: I must go seek some dewdrops here, And hang a pearl in every cowslip’s ear. Farewell, thou lob of spirits; I’ll be gone: Our queen and all her elves come here anon."

"I am that merry wanderer of the night."

"Ill met by moonlight, proud Titania."

"And never, since the middle summer’s spring, Met we on hill, in dale, forest, or mead, By paved fountain or by rushy brook, Or in the beached margent of the sea, To dance our ringlets to the whistling wind, But with thy brawls thou hast disturb’d our sport."