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Shakespeare quotes on lies46 Mine eye and heart are at a mortal war, How to divide the conquest of thy sight, Mine eye, my heart thy picture's sight would bar, My heart, mine eye the freedom of that right, My heart doth plead that thou in him dost lie, (A closet never pierced Source: THE SONNETS The bloody spur cannot provoke him on, That sometimes anger thrusts into his hide, Which heavily he answers with a groan, More sharp to me than spurring to his side, For that same groan doth put this in my mind, My grief lies onward and my joy behind 70 That thou art blamed shall not be thy defect, For slander's mark was ever yet the fair, The ornament of beauty is suspect, A crow that flies in heaven's sweetest air For sweetest things turn sourest by their deeds, Lilies that fester, smell far worse than weeds Whilst her neglected child holds her in chase, Cries to catch her whose busy care is bent, To follow that which flies before her face The honour, sir, that flames in your fair eyes, Before I speak, too threat'ningly replies None in the world; but return with an invention, and clap upon you two or three probable lies But couch, ho! here he comes; to beguile two hours in a sleep, and then to return and swear the lies he forges I will to Egypt; And though I make this marriage for my peace, I' th' East my pleasure lies Yon ribaudred nag of Egypt- Whom leprosy o'ertake!- i' th' midst o' th' fight, When vantage like a pair of twins appear'd, Both as the same, or rather ours the elder- The breese upon her, like a cow in June- Hoists sails and flies She once being loof'd, The noble ruin of her magic, Antony, Claps on his sea-wing, Source: THE TRAGEDY OF ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA Fie, you confine yourself most unreasonably; come, you must go visit the good lady that lies in For that I have not wash'd my nose that bled, Or foil'd some debile wretch, which without note Here's many else have done, you shout me forth In acclamations hyperbolical, As if I lov'd my little should be dieted In praises sauc'd with lies Worthy tribunes, There is a slave, whom we have put in prison, Reports the Volsces with several powers Are ent'red in the Roman territories, And with the deepest malice of the war Destroy what lies before 'em If! He is their god; he leads them like a thing Made by some other deity than Nature, That shapes man better; and they follow him Against us brats with no less confidence Than boys pursuing summer butterflies, Or butchers killing flies This was my master, A very valiant Briton and a good, That here by mountaineers lies slain I entreat you both That, being of so young clays brought up with him, And since so neighbour'd to his youth and haviour, That you vouchsafe your rest here in our court Some little time; so by your companies To draw him on to pleasures, and to gather So much as from occasion you may glean, Whether aught to us unknown afflicts him thus That, open'd, lies within our remedy Lay her i' th' earth; And from her fair and unpolluted flesh May violets spring! I tell thee, churlish priest, A minist'ring angel shall my sister be When thou liest howling Those opposed eyes Which, like the meteors of a troubled heaven, All of one nature, of one substance bred, Did lately meet in the intestine shock And furious close of civil butchery, Shall now in mutual well-beseeming ranks March all one way and be no more oppos'd Against acquaintance, kindred, and allies Thou hast the most unsavoury similes, and art indeed the most comparative, rascalliest, sweet young prince how thirty, at least, he fought with; what wards, what blows, what extremities he endured; and in the reproof of this lies the jest This have I rumour'd through the peasant towns Between that royal field of Shrewsbury And this worm-eaten hold of ragged stone, Where Hotspur's father, old Northumberland, Lies crafty-sick Exit page How many thousands of my poorest subjects Are at this hour asleep! O sleep, O gentle sleep, Nature's soft nurse, how have I frightened thee, That thou no more will weigh my eyelids down, And steep my senses in forgetfulness? Why rather, sleep, liest thou in smoky cribs, Upon uneasy pallets stretching thee, And hush'd with buzzing night-flies to thy slumber, Than in the perfum'd chambers of the great, Under the canopies of costly state, And lull'd with sound of sweetest melody? O thou dull god, why liest thou with the vile In loathsome beds, and leav'st the kingly couch A watch-case or a common 'larum-bell? Wilt thou upon the high and giddy mast Seal up the ship-boy's eyes, and rock his brains In cradle of the rude imperious surge, And in the visitation of the winds, Who take the ruffian billows by the top, Curling their monstrous heads, and hanging them With deafing clamour in the slippery clouds, That with the hurly death itself awakes? Canst thou, O partial sleep, give thy repose To the wet sea-boy in an hour so rude; And in the calmest and most stillest night, With all appliances and means to boot, Deny it to a king? Then, happy low, lie down! Uneasy lies the head that wears a crown Our navy is address'd, our power connected, Our substitutes in absence well invested, And everything lies level to our wish In which array, brave soldier, doth he lie Larding the plain; and by his bloody side, Yoke-fellow to his honour-owing wounds, The noble Earl of Suffolk also lies Him that thou magnifi'st with all these tides, Stinking and fly-blown lies here at our feet Open Thy gate of mercy, gracious God! My soul flies through these wounds to seek out Thee If I lov'd many words, lord, I should tell you You have as little honesty as honour, That in the way of loyalty and truth Toward the King, my ever royal master, Dare mate a sounder man than Surrey can be And an that love his follies He is the half part of a blessed man, Left to be finished by such as she; And she a fair divided excellence, Whose fulness of perfection lies in him I'll tell thee what, my friend, He is a very serpent in my way; And wheresoe'er this foot of mine doth tread, He lies before me Their shadows seem A canopy most fatal, under which Our army lies, ready to give up the ghost Fut! I should have been that I am, had the maidenliest star in the firmament twinkled on my bastardizing Say thou 'no,' This sword, this arm, and my best spirits are bent To prove upon thy heart, whereto I speak, Thou liest [Aside.] The Prince of Cumberland! That is a step On which I must fall down, or else o'erleap, For in my way it lies I pull in resolution and begin To doubt the equivocation of the fiend That lies like truth Troth, and your bum is the greatest thing about you; so that, in the beastliest sense, you are Pompey the Great As fast lock'd up in sleep as guiltless labour When it lies starkly in the traveller's bones It is engend'red in the eyes, With gazing fed; and fancy dies In the cradle where it lies I am a tainted wether of the flock, Meetest for death; the weakest kind of fruit Drops earliest to the ground, and so let me Apollo flies, and Daphne holds the chase; The dove pursues the griffin; the mild hind Makes speed to catch the tiger- bootless speed, When cowardice pursues and valour flies Call up her father, Rouse him, make after him, poison his delight, Proclaim him in the streets, incense her kinsmen, And, though he in a fertile climate dwell, Plague him with flies Mark me with what violence she first loved the Moor, but for bragging and telling her fantastical lies Every day thou daffest me with some device, Iago; and rather, as it seems to me now, keepest from me all conveniency than suppliest me with the least advantage of hope Then, Bolingbroke, as low as to thy heart, Through the false passage of thy throat, thou liest Why have those banish'd and forbidden legs Dar'd once to touch a dust of England's ground? But then more 'why?'-why have they dar'd to march So many miles upon her peaceful bosom, Frighting her pale-fac'd villages with war And ostentation of despised arms? Com'st thou because the anointed King is hence? Why, foolish boy, the King is left behind, And in my loyal bosom lies his power To fear the foe, since fear oppresseth strength, Gives, in your weakness, strength unto your foe, And so your follies fight against yourself How fondly dost thou spur a forward horse! If I dare eat, or drink, or breathe, or live, I dare meet Surrey in a wilderness, And spit upon him whilst I say he lies, And lies, and lies Ay, and much more; but I was born so high, Our aery buildeth in the cedar's top, And dallies with the wind, and scorns the sun More validity, More honourable state, more courtship lives In carrion flies than Romeo Is there no pity sitting in the clouds That sees into the bottom of my grief? O sweet my mother, cast me not away! Delay this marriage for a month, a week; Or if you do not, make the bridal bed In that dim monument where Tybalt lies Their understanding Begins to swell, and the approaching tide Will shortly fill the reasonable shore That now lies foul and muddy A daughter! O heavens, that they were living both in Naples, The King and Queen there! That they were, I wish Myself were mudded in that oozy bed Where my son lies TITUS' garden Enter YOUNG LUCIUS and LAVINIA running after him, and the boy flies from her with his books under his arm Troy and the Greek camp before it PROLOGUE TROILUS AND CRESSIDA PROLOGUE In Troy, there lies the scene But in the wind and tempest of her frown Distinction, with a broad and powerful fan, Puffing at all, winnows the light away; And what hath mass or matter by itself Lies rich in virtue and unmingled You know an enemy intends you harm; You know a sword employ'd is perilous, And reason flies the object of all harm [HECTOR falls] So, Ilion, fall thou next! Come, Troy, sink down; Here lies thy heart, thy sinews, and thy bone If it be worth stooping for, there it lies in your eye; if not, be it his that finds it He has a son- who shall be flay'd alive; then 'nointed over with honey, set on the head of a wasp's nest; then stand till he be three quarters and a dram dead; then recover'd again with aqua-vitae or some other hot infusion; then, raw as he is, and in the hottest day prognostication proclaims, shall he be set against a brick wall, the sun looking with a southward eye upon him, where he is to behold him with flies blown to death Quotes for: Shakespeare Quotes
Source: Project Gutenburg Texts
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