Your Favourate Shakespeare Quotes

[Solaris]

• Methought I heard a voice cry, Sleep no more!
  Macbeth does murder sleep, ? the innocent sleep;
  Sleep, that knits up the ravell'd sleave of care,
  The death of each day's life, sore labor's bath,
  Balm of hurt minds, great nature's second course,
  Chief nourisher in life's feast.
  • Macbeth, scene i

• Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more;
  Or close the wall up with our English dead!
  • King Henry, scene i
  
  
  
• This is the latest parle we will admit;
  Therefore to our best mercy give yourselves,
  Or, like to men proud of destruction,
  Defy us to our worst; for, as I am a soldier,
  A name that in my thoughts becomes me best,
  If I begin the battery once again,
  I will not leave the half-achieved Harfleur
  Till in her ashes she lie buried.
  The gates of mercy shall be all shut up,
  And the flesh'd soldier, rough and hard of heart,
  In liberty of bloody hand, shall range
  With conscience wide as hell, mowing like grass
  Your fresh-fair virgins and your flowering infants. What is it then to me, if impious War,
  Array'd in flames, like to the prince of fiends,
  Do, with his smirch'd complexion, all fell feats
  Enlink'd to waste and desolation?
  What is't to me, when you yourselves are cause,
  If your pure maidens fall into the hand
  Of hot and forcing violation?
  What rein can hold licentious wickedness
  When down the hill he holds his fierce career?
  We may as bootless spend our vain command
  Upon the enraged soldiers in their spoil
  As send precepts to the Leviathan
  To come ashore. Therefore, you men of Harfleur,
  Take pity of your town, and of your people,
  Whiles yet my soldiers are in my command,
  Whiles yet the cool and temperate wind of grace
  O'erblows the filthy and contagious clouds
  Of headly murder, spoil, and villainy.
  If not, why, in a moment look to see
  The blind and bloody soldier, with foul hand
  Defile the locks of your shrill-shrieking daughters;
  Your fathers taken by the silver beards,
  And their most reverend heads dash'd to the walls;
  Your naked infants spitted upon pikes,
  Whiles the mad mothers with their howls confus'd
  Do break the clouds, as did the wives of Jewry
  At Herod's bloody-hunting slaughtermen.
  What say you? Will you yield, and this avoid,
  Or, guilty in defence, be thus destroy'd?
  • King Henry, scene iii

 

[Mr Stabby]

I hate shakespeare

 

[evil^milk]

Thine horrid image doth unfix my hair.

 

[Asknoone]

Be not afeard; the isle is full of noises,
Sounds and sweet airs, that give delight and hurt not.
Sometimes a thousand twangling instruments
Will hum about mine ears, and sometime voices
That, if I then had waked after long sleep,
Will make me sleep again: and then, in dreaming,
The clouds methought would open and show riches
Ready to drop upon me; that, when I waked,
I cried to dream again.
-Act 3, Scene 2

Caliban, Tempest.

 

[Warbie]

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AYtVgemYKIU&feature=related

 

[Tagaziel]

I don't recall any exactly, but two come to mind, one in Richard III, that even a beast knows pity whereas a human can feel none and the second from Othello, when Desdemone is murdered.

 

[Tyguy]

are you really that into shakespeare?

 

[Darkside55]

Pretty much anything Tybalt says.

Romeo, the love I bear thee can afford no better term than this,--thou art a villain.

...

Boy, this shall not excuse the injuries that thou hast done me; therefore turn and draw!

 

[Raziaar]

Bacon-fed knaves!

Go hang yourselves all! You are idle, shallow things. I am not of your element.

 

[Solaris]

This Scene is one of the best speeches ever given in fiction.

I saw it in Manchester Exchange, was fantastic

Henry V's talk before Agincourt on Crispins day: "We few, We Happy Few, We Band of Brothers"

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Z399i_PksfU

 

[Polaris]

Henry V's talk before Agincourt on Crispins day: "We few, We Happy Few, We Band of Brothers"

That's right.


We few, we happy few, we band of brothers;
For he to-day that sheds his blood with me
Shall be my brother; be he ne'er so vile,
This day shall gentle his condition:
And gentlemen in England now a-bed
Shall think themselves accursed they were not here,
And hold their manhoods cheap whiles any speaks
That fought with us upon Saint Crispin's day.