Quotes
Quotes - Shakespeare
I tell you that which you yourselves do know, Show you sweet Caesar's wounds, poor poor dumb mouths, And bid them speak for me.
Safe in a ditch he bides, With twenty trenched gashes on his head, The least a death to nature.
What wound did ever heal but my degrees?
How he in peace is wounded, not in war.
He jests at scars that never felt a wound.
The private wound is deepest. O time most accurst, 'Mongst all foes that a friend should be the worst!
For the poor wren (The most diminutive of birds) will fight, Her young ones in her nest, against the owl.
Scale of dragon, tooth of wolf, Witch's mummy, maw and gulf Of the ravined salt-sea shark, Root of hemlock digged i' th' dark, Liver of blaspheming Jew, Gall of goat, and slips of yew Slivered in the moon's eclipse, Nose of Turk, and Tartar's lips, Finger of birth-strangled babe Ditch-delivered by a drab Make the gruel thick and slab. Add there to a tiger's chaudron For th' ingredience of our cauldron.
A man loves the meat in his youth that he cannot endure in his age.
Had I but served my God with half the zeal I served my King, He would not in mine age Have left me naked to mine enemies.
