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William Shakespeare

William Shakespeare Quotes

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Famous William Shakespeare Quotes

“Mientras que, para vergüenza mía, estoy viendo la muerte inminente de estos veinte mil hombres, que por capricho y una ilusión de gloria corren a sus tumbas cual si fueran lechos, y pelean por un trozo de tierra tan reducido que no ofrece espacio a los combatientes para sostener la lucha, ni siquiera es un osario bastante capaz para enterrar a los muertos.”

MuerteGuerraWilliam ShakespeareHamletInjusticiaGuerra Y PazAbsurdoPacifismoLuchas
Book:Hamlet
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“I cannot say your worships have delivered the matter well when I find the ass in compound with the major part of your syllables [...] our very priests must become mockers if they shall encounter such ridiculous subjects as you are. When you speak best unto the purpose, it is not worth the wagging of your beards, and your beards deserve not so honorable a grave as to stuff a botcher's cushion or to be entombed in an ass's packsaddle [...] more of your conversation would infect my brain, being the herdsmen of the beastly plebeians. I will be bold to take my leave with you.”

WarHumorMoneyConversationConflictDinnerDialogueInsultClassic InsultAct IiAct 2
Book:Coriolanus
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“War! war! no peace! Peace is to me a war. O Lymoges! O Austria! thou dost shame That bloody spoil. Thou slave, thou wretch, thou coward! Thou little valiant, great in villainy! Thou ever strong upon the stronger side! Thou Fortune's champion that dost never fight But when her humorous ladyship is by To teach thee safety! Thou art perjur'd too, And sooth'st up greatness. What a fool art thou, A ramping fool, to brag and stamp and swear Upon my party! Thou cold-blooded slave, Hast thou not spoke like thunder on my side, Been sworn my soldier, bidding me depend Upon thy stars, thy fortune, and thy strength, And dost thou now fall over to my foes? Thou wear a lion's hide! Doff it for shame, And hang a calf's-skin on those recreant limbs. AUSTRIA. O that a man should speak those words to me! BASTARD. And hang a calf's-skin on those recreant limbs. AUSTRIA. Thou dar'st not say so, villain, for thy life. BASTARD. And hang a calf's-skin on those recreant limbs. KING JOHN. We like not this: thou dost forget thyself.”

PoliticsWittyAustria
Book:King John
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“Che la vostra prudenza sia la vostra guida: adattate l’azione al mondo, la parola all’azione, ma attenti a non oltrepassare la moderazione della natura: qualsiasi esagerazione è estranea allo scopo del dramma, il cui fine, in origine come ora, era ed è porgere uno specchio alla natura, mostrando alla virtù il suo aspetto, al vizio la sua immagine e all’età e al tempo la loro forma e la loro impronta.”

NaturaVeritàTeatroDramma
Book:Hamlet
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“O for a Muse of fire, that would ascend The brightest heaven of invention, A kingdom for a stage, princes to act And monarchs to behold the swelling scene! Then should the warlike Harry, like himself, Assume the port of Mars; and at his heels, Leash'd in like hounds, should famine, sword and fire Crouch for employment. But pardon, and gentles all, The flat unraised spirits that have dared On this unworthy scaffold to bring forth So great an object: can this cockpit hold The vasty fields of France? or may we cram Within this wooden O the very casques That did affright the air at Agincourt? O, pardon! since a crooked figure may Attest in little place a million; And let us, ciphers to this great accompt, On your imaginary forces work. Suppose within the girdle of these walls Are now confined two mighty monarchies, Whose high upreared and abutting fronts The perilous narrow ocean parts asunder: Piece out our imperfections with your thoughts; Into a thousand parts divide on man, And make imaginary puissance; Think when we talk of horses, that you see them Printing their proud hoofs i' the receiving earth; For 'tis your thoughts that now must deck our kings, Carry them here and there; jumping o'er times, Turning the accomplishment of many years Into an hour-glass: for the which supply, Admit me Chorus to this history; Who prologue-like your humble patience pray, Gently to hear, kindly to judge, our play.”

InspirationOn Writing
Book:Henry V
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“If you have tears, prepare to shed them now. You all do know this mantle: I remember The first time ever Caesar put it on; 'Twas on a summer's evening, in his tent, That day he overcame the Nervii: Look, in this place ran Cassius' dagger through: See what a rent the envious Casca made: Through this well-beloved Brutus stabb'd; And as he pluck'd his cursed steel away, Mark how the blood of Caesar follow'd it, As rushing out of doors, to be resolved If Brutus so unkindly knock'd, or no; For Brutus, as you know, was Caesar's angel: Judge, O you gods, how dearly Caesar loved him! This was the most unkindest cut of all; For when the noble Caesar saw him stab, Ingratitude, more strong than traitors' arms, Quite vanquishi'd him: then burst his mighty heart; And, in his mantle muffling up his face, Even at the base of Pompey's statua, Which all the while ran blood, great Caesar fell.”

FuneralAntonyMonologue
Book:Julius Caesar
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“Rumble thy bellyful! Spit, fire! spout, rain! Nor rain, wind, thunder, fire, are my daughters: I tax not you, you elements, with unkindness; I never gave you kingdom, call'd you children, You owe me no subscription: then let fall Your horrible pleasure: here I stand, your slave, A poor, infirm, weak, and despised old man: But yet I call you servile ministers, That have with two pernicious daughters join'd Your high engender'd battles 'gainst a head So old and white as this. O! O! 'tis foul!”

King LearAct IiiThe Heath
Author:William Shakespeare
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“Éste fue el más noble romano entre todos ellos. Todos los conspiradores, excepto él, hicieron lo que hicieron sólo por envidia al gran Cesar; sólo él, al asociarse a ellos, fue guiado por un pensamiento de general honradez y del bien común a todos. Su vida era pura, y de tal modo se combinaron en él los elementos, que la naturaleza, irguiéndose puede decir al mundo: “¡Este era un hombre!”" (Antonio)”

Historia
Book:Julius Caesar
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“There is a willow grows askant the brook, That shows his hoar leaves in the glassy stream. Therewith fantastic garlands did she make Of crowflowers, nettles, daisies, and long purples, That liberal shepherds give a grosser name, But our cold maids do dead-men's-fingers call them. There on the pendant boughs her crownet weeds Clambering to hang, an envious sliver broke, When down her weedy trophies and herself Fell in the weeping brook. Her clothes spread wide, And mermaid-like awhile they bore her up; Which time she chanted snatches of old tunes, As one incapable of her own distress, Or like a creature native and indued Unto that element.”

DeathFlowersDrowningHamletOpheliaDoomed LoveLaertes
Book:Hamlet
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“En la época más gloriosa y floreciente de Roma, poco antes de sucumbir el poderosísimo Julio, las tumbas quedaron vacías, y los difuntos, envueltos en sus mortajas, vagaban por las calles de Roma dando alaridos y confusas voces; viéronse también raros prodigios en el Cielo, comon estrellas de colas encendidas, lluvia de sangre y maleficio en el sol; y el húmedo planeta, a cuya influencia está sujeto el imperio de Neptuno, padeció eclipse, como si hubiera llega el día del Juicio Final.”

MuerteWilliam ShakespeareHamletRomaSolTragédiaProfecíaFenómenos NaturalesJuicio FinalJulio César
Book:Hamlet
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“¡Ser o no ser, la alternativa es esa! Si es a la luz de la razón más digno sufrir los golpes y punzantes dardos de suerte horrenda, o terminar la lucha en guerra contra un piélago de males. Morir, dormir. No más, y con un sueño pensar que concluyeron las congojas, los mil tormentos de la carne herencia, debe término ser apetecido. Morir, dormir. ¿Dormir? ¡Soñar, acaso! ¡Ah!, la rémora es esa. Pues qué sueños podrán ser los que acaso sobrevengan en el dormir profundo de la muerte, ya de mortal envuelta despojados, suspende la razón: ahí el motivo que a la desgracia de tan larga vida.”

VidaSerTragediaDormirMorirNo Ser
Book:Hamlet
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“Ye elves of hills, brooks, standing lakes and groves, And ye that on the sands with printless foot Do chase the ebbing Neptune and do fly him When he comes back; you demi-puppets that By moonshine do the green sour ringlets make, Whereof the ewe not bites, and you whose pastime Is to make midnight mushrooms, that rejoice To hear the solemn curfew; by whose aid, Weak masters though ye be, I have bedimm’d The noontide sun, call’d forth the mutinous winds, And ‘twixt the green sea and the azured vault Set roaring war: to the dread rattling thunder Have I given fire and rifted Jove’s stout oak With his own bolt; the strong-based promontory Have I made shake and by the spurs pluck’d up The pine and cedar: graves at my command Have waked their sleepers, oped, and let ‘em forth By my so potent art. But this rough magic I here abjure, and, when I have required Some heavenly music, which even now I do, To work mine end upon their senses that This airy charm is for, I’ll break my staff, Bury it certain fathoms in the earth, And deeper than did ever plummet sound I’ll drown my book.”

MagicHillsBrooksElvesThe TempestProsperoEbbing Neptune
Book:The Tempest
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