Quotes William Shakespeare - page 13
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Jesu, Jesu, the mad days that I have spent! And to see how
many of my old acquaintance are dead!
I would challenge you to a battle of wits, but I see you are unarmed!
She's good, being gone.
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He makes a July's day short as December.
The empty vessel makes the loudest sound.
You wear out a good wholesome forenoon in hearing a cause between an orange wife and a fosset-seller.
Such antics do not amount to a man.
Thou hast the most unsavoury similes.
Thou sodden-witted lord! thou hast no more brain than I have in mine elbows.
O faithless coward! O dishonest wretch!
Wilt thou be made a man out of my vice?
He is deformed, crooked, old and sere, Ill-faced, worse bodied, shapeless everywhere; Vicious, ungentle, foolish, blunt, unkind; Stigmatical in making, worse in mind.
Thou whoreson, senseless villain!
Dissembling harlot, thou art false in all!
For such things as you, I can scarce think there's any, ye're so slight.
There is no more mercy in him than there is milk in a male tiger.
Away! Thou'rt poison to my blood.
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They have a plentiful lack of wit.
