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Shakespeare quotes on griefThe 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 Source: THE SONNETS My heart is heavy, and mine age is weak; Grief would have tears, and sorrow bids me speak Caius Lucius Will do's commission throughly; and I think He'll grant the tribute, send th' arrearages, Or look upon our Romans, whose remembrance Is yet fresh in their grief The matter? Triumphs for nothing and lamenting toys Is jollity for apes and grief for boys This must be known; which, being kept close, might move More grief to hide than hate to utter love We heard it all.- My lord, do as you please; But if you hold it fit, after the play Let his queen mother all alone entreat him To show his grief Where joy most revels, grief doth most lament; Grief joys, joy grieves, on slender accident I knew of this before; but, to speak truth, This present grief had wip'd it from my mind I have in equal balance justly weigh'd What wrongs our arms may do, what wrongs we suffer, And find our griefs heavier than our offences Yet, for your part, it not appears to me, Either from the King or in the present time, That you should have an inch of any ground To build a grief on So happy be the issue, brother England, Of this good day and of this gracious meeting As we are now glad to behold your eyes- Your eyes, which hitherto have home in them, Against the French that met them in their bent, The fatal balls of murdering basilisks; The venom of such looks, we fairly hope, Have lost their quality; Source: THE LIFE OF KING HENRY THE FIFTH Brave peers of England, pillars of the state, To you Duke Humphrey must unload his grief Your grief, the common grief of all the land Exeunt the DUCHESS and the other prisoners, guarded Mine eyes are full of tears, my heart of grief Weep, wretched man; I'll aid thee tear for tear; And let our hearts and eyes, like civil war, Be blind with tears and break o'ercharg'd with grief Thou mayst, thou shalt; I will not go with thee; I will instruct my sorrows to be proud, For grief is proud, and makes his owner stoop Grief fills the room up of my absent child, Lies in his bed, walks up and down with me, Puts on his pretty looks, repeats his words, Remembers me of all his gracious parts, Stuffs out his vacant garments with his form; Then have I reason to be fond of grief But, for true need- You heavens, give me that patience, patience I need! You see me here, you gods, a poor old man, As full of grief as age; wretched in both Who alone suffers suffers most i' th' mind, Leaving free things and happy shows behind; But then the mind much sufferance doth o'erskip When grief hath mates, and bearing fellowship Do but behold the tears that swell in me, And they thy glory through my grief will show In brief- to set the needless process by, How I persuaded, how I pray'd, and kneel'd, How he refell'd me, and how I replied, For this was of much length- the vile conclusion I now begin with grief and shame to utter The robb'd that smiles steals something from the thief; He robs himself that spends a bootless grief He bears the sentence well, that nothing bears But the free comfort which from thence he hears; But he bears both the sentence and the sorrow That, to pay grief, must of poor patience borrow O, sit my husband's wrongs on Hereford's spear, That it may enter butcher Mowbray's breast! Or, if misfortune miss the first career, Be Mowbray's sins so heavy in his bosom That they may break his foaming courser's back And throw the rider headlong in the lists, A caitiff recreant to my cousin Hereford! Farewell, old Gaunt; thy sometimes brother's wife, With her companion, Grief, must end her life Comfort's in heaven; and we are on the earth, Where nothing lives but crosses, cares, and grief That bucket down and fun of tears am I, Drinking my griefs, whilst you mount up on high Come, come, in wooing sorrow let's be brief, Since, wedding it, there is such length in grief Of my kind uncle, that I know will give, And being but a toy, which is no grief to give [Coming forward] If ancient sorrow be most reverend, Give mine the benefit of seniory, And let my griefs frown on the upper hand Tut, man, one fire burns out another's burning; One pain is lessoned by another's anguish; Turn giddy, and be holp by backward turning; One desperate grief cures with another's languish Alas, my liege, my wife is dead to-night! Grief of my son's exile hath stopp'd her breath Signior Baptista, will you be so strange? Sorry am I that our good will effects Bianca's grief Y'are welcome, sir, and he for your good sake; But for my daughter Katherine, this I know, She is not for your turn, the more my grief Sir, you may thank yourself for this great loss, That would not bless our Europe with your daughter, But rather lose her to an African; Where she, at least, is banish'd from your eye, Who hath cause to wet the grief on't Not so, my lord; the gods of Rome forfend I should be author to dishonour you! But on mine honour dare I undertake For good Lord Titus' innocence in all, Whose fury not dissembled speaks his griefs [Aside to SATURNINUS] My lord, be rul'd by me, be won at last; Dissemble all your griefs and discontents Farewell, Lavinia, my noble sister; O, would thou wert as thou tofore hast been! But now nor Lucius nor Lavinia lives But in oblivion and hateful griefs How can I moderate it? If I could temporize with my affections Or brew it to a weak and colder palate, The like allayment could I give my grief She pin'd in thought; And with a green and yellow melancholy She sat like Patience on a monument, Smiling at grief The King is not at the palace; he is gone aboard a new ship to purge melancholy and air himself; for, if thou be'st capable of things serious, thou must know the King is full of grief Quotes for: Shakespeare Quotes
Source: Project Gutenburg Texts
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