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Hamlet. Act I. Our sometime sister, now our Queen. ( I.ii , 8). Act I. A little more than kin and less than kind. (I.ii,67) . Act I. O, that this too too sullied flesh would melt, Thaw, and resolve itself into a dew, Or that the Everlasting had not fix’d
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Act I Our sometime sister, now our Queen. (I.ii, 8)
Act I A little more than kin and less than kind. (I.ii,67)
Act I O, that this too toosullied flesh would melt, Thaw, and resolve itself into a dew, Or that the Everlasting had not fix’d His canon ‘gainst self-slaughter! Oh God! God! How weary, stale, flat, and unprofitable Seem to me all the uses of this world! (I.ii,132-7)
Act I Frailty, thy name is woman! (I.ii,149)
Act I Thrift, thrift, Horatio! The funeral baked meats Did coldly furnish forth the marriage tables. (I.ii,185-6)
Act I I’ll speak to it, though hell itself should gape And bid me hold my peace(I.ii,263-4)
Act I For Hamlet, and the trifling of his favours, Hold it a fashion and a toy in blood; A violet in the youth of primynature, Forward, not permanent, sweet, not lasting, The perfume and suppliance of a minute — No more. (I.iii, 6-11)
Act I This above all: To thine own self be true, And it must follow, as the night the day, Thou canst not then be false to any man. (I.iii,82-84)
Act I Something is rotten in the state of Denmark. (I.iv,99)
Act I Doomed for a certain term to walk the night, And for the day confined to fast in fires, Till the foul crimes done in my days of nature Are burnt and purged away. (I,v, 14-7)
Act I Revenge his foul and most unnatural murder. (I.v,29)
Act I The serpent that did sting thy father’s life Now wears his crown. (I, v, 44-45)
Act I Cut off even in the blossoms of my sin. (I,v, 81)
Act I Taint not thy mind, nor let thy soul contrive Against thy mother aught. Leave her to Heaven And to those thorns that in her bosom lodge To prick and sting her. (I.v,90-3)
Act I There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, Than are dreamt of in your philosophy. (I.v, 186-7)
Act I How strange or odd soe'er I bear myself — As I perchance hereafter shall think meet To put an antic disposition on(I.v, 190-2)
Act I The time is out of joint. Oh, cursed spite That ever I was born to set it right! (I.v,209-10)
Act II He raised a sigh so piteous and profound As it did seem to shatter all his bulk And end his being. (II.i, 106-8)
Act II What majesty should be, what duty is, Why day is day, night night, and time is time, Were nothing but to waste night, day, and time. Therefore, since brevity is the soul of wit And tediousness the limbs and outward flourishes, I will be brief. (II.ii,93-98)
Act II Doubt thou the stars are fire; Doubt that the sun doth move; Doubt truth to be a liar; But never doubt I love. (II.ii,123-6)
Act II Though this be madness, yet there is a method in’t. (II.ii, 216-7)
Act II What a piece of work is a man! How noble in reason! How infinite in faculty! In form and moving how express and admirable! In action how like an angel! In apprehension how like a god! The beauty of the world! The paragon of animals! And yet, to me, what is this quintessence of dust? Man delights not me -- no, nor woman neither, though by your smiling you seem to say so. (II.ii,311-317)
Act II I am but mad north-north-west. When the wind is southerly I know a hawk from a handsaw. (II.ii, 381-2)
Act II The play's the thing Wherein I'll catch the conscience of the King. (II.ii,607-8)
Act III To be, or not to be, that is the question: Whether ‘tis nobler in the mind to suffer The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune Or to take arms against a sea of troubles, And by opposing end them. (II.i, 63-67)
Act III Get thee to a nunnery. (III.i, 130)
Act III O, what a noble mind is here o'erthrown! The courtier's, scholar's, eye, tongue, sword, the expectancy and rose of the fair state, the glass of fashion and the mould of form, (III.i,159-162)
Act III Madness in great ones must not unwatch’d go. (III.i, 198)
Act III The lady doth protest too much, methinks. (III.ii,222)
Act III Give me some light. Away! (III.ii,259)
Act III O good Horatio, I'll take the ghost's word for a thousand pound. Didst perceive? (III.ii,276-88)
Act III You would play upon me; you would seem to Know my stops; you would pluck out the heart of my mystery; you would sound me from my lowest note to the top of my compass; and there is much music, excellent voice, in this little organ, yet cannot you make it speak. (III.ii,350-354)
Act III Tis now the very witching time of night, When churchyards yawn, and hell itself breathes out Contagion to this world. Now could I drink hot blood, And do such bitter business as the day Would quake to look on. (III.ii, 372-6)
Act III I will speak daggers to her but use none. (III.ii, 380)
Act III Therefore prepare you. I your commission will forthwith dispatch, And he to England shall along with you. The terms of our estate may not endure (III.iii,2-5)
Act III O, my offence is rank, it smells to heaven; It hath the primal eldest curse upon’t, A brother’s murder! (III.iii,39-41)
Act III But in our circumstance and course of thought 'Tisheavy with him. And am I then revenged To take him in the purging of his soul When he is fit and seasoned for his passage? (III.iii,86-89)
Act III My words fly up, my thoughts remain below. Words without thoughts never to heaven go. (III.iii, 100-1)
Act III Thou wretched, rash, intruding fool, farewell. I took thee for thy better. Take thy fortune. Thou find'st to be too busy is some danger. (III.iv,35-7)
Act III Look here upon this picture and on this, The counterfeit presentment of two brothers. See, what a grace was seated on this brow? (III.iv,59-61)
Act III Ha, have you eyes? You cannot call it love, for at your age The heyday in the blood is tame, it's humble, And waits upon the judgment. And what judgment Would step from this to this? (III.iv, 73-77)
Act III Oh, shame! Where is thy blush? (III.iv,88)
Act III Thou turn’st mine eyes into my very soul, And there I see such back and grained spots As will not leave their tinct. (III.iv,96-98)
Act III O, speak to me no more! These words like daggers enter in mine ears. (III.iv,103-4)
Act III This visitation Is but to whet thy almost blunted purpose. But look, amazement on thy mother sits. O, step between her and her fighting soul. (III.iv,121-4)
Act III Alas, how is 't with you, That you do bend your eye on vacancy And with th' incorporal air do hold discourse? (III.iv,128-30)
Act III O Hamlet, thou hast cleft my heart in twain. (III.iv,171)
Act III O, throw away the worser part of it, And live the purer with the other half. (III.iv,172-3)
Act III I must be cruel, only to be kind. (III.iv,193)