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Shakespeare quotes on mother3 Look in thy glass and tell the face thou viewest, Now is the time that face should form another, Whose fresh repair if now thou not renewest, Thou dost beguile the world, unbless some mother To speak on the Source: ALLS WELL THAT ENDS WELL When midnight comes, knock at my chamber window; I'll order take my mother shall not hear My gracious silence, hail! Wouldst thou have laugh'd had I come coffin'd home, That weep'st to see me triumph? Ah, my dear, Such eyes the widows in Corioli wear, And mothers that lack sons Say my request's unjust, And spurn me back; but if it he not so, Thou art not honest, and the gods will plague thee, That thou restrain'st from me the duty which To a mother's part belongs If it be possible for you to displace it with your little finger, there is some hope the ladies of Rome, especially his mother, may prevail with him A pox on't! I had rather not be so noble as I am; they dare not fight with me, because of the Queen my mother He cannot choose but take this service I have done fatherly.- Good morrow to your Majesty and to my gracious mother When once he was mature for man, In Britain where was he That could stand up his parallel, Or fruitful object be In eye of Imogen, that best Could deem his dignity? MOTHER [Waking] Sleep, thou has been a grandsire and begot A father to me; and thou hast created A mother and two brothers But, howsoever thou pursuest this act, Taint not thy mind, nor let thy soul contrive Against thy mother aught Get thee to a nunnery! Why wouldst thou be a breeder of sinners? I am myself indifferent honest, but yet I could accuse me of Source: THE TRAGEDY OF HAMLET, PRINCE OF DENMARK But, sir, such answer is I can make, you shall command; or rather, as you say, my mother O wonderful son, that can so stonish a mother! But is there no sequel at the heels of this mother's admiration? Impart No, by the rood, not so! You are the Queen, your husband's brother's wife, And (would it were not so!) you are my mother Hamlet in madness hath Polonius slain, And from his mother's closet hath he dragg'd him My mother! Father and mother is man and wife; man and wife is one flesh; and so, my mother That drop of blood that's calm proclaims me bastard; Cries cuckold to my father; brands the harlot Even here between the chaste unsmirched brows Of my true mother Here, thou incestuous, murd'rous, damned Dane, Drink off this potion! Is thy union here? Follow my mother Your private grudge, my Lord of York, will out, Though ne'er so cunningly you smother it By devilish policy art thou grown great, And, like ambitious Sylla, overgorg'd With gobbets of thy mother's bleeding heart Whoever got thee, there thy mother stands; For well I wot thou hast thy mother's tongue The palace Enter TRUMPETS, sounding; then two ALDERMEN, LORD MAYOR, GARTER, CRANMER, DUKE OF NORFOLK, with his marshal's staff, DUKE OF SUFFOLK, two Noblemen bearing great standing-bowls for the christening gifts; then four Noblemen bearing a canopy, under which the DUCHESS OF NORFOLK, godmother, bearing the CHILD richly habited in a mantle, etc., train borne by a LADY; then follows the MARCHIONESS DORSET, the other godmother, and LADIES Most certain of one mother, mighty king- That is well known- and, as I think, one father; But for the certain knowledge of that truth I put you o'er to heaven and to my mother My boy a bastard! By my soul, I think His father never was so true begot; It cannot be, an if thou wert his mother Therefore, to arms! be champion of our church, Or let the church, our mother, breathe her curse- A mother's curse-on her revolting son Yes, Cassius, and from henceforth, When you are overearnest with your Brutus, He'll think your mother chides, and leave you so Alas, poor country, Almost afraid to know itself! It cannot Be call'd our mother, but our grave Ay, that's a colt indeed, for he doth nothing but talk of his horse; and he makes it a great appropriation to his own good parts that he can shoe him himself; I am much afear'd my lady his mother play'd false with a smith I know not what I shall think of that; but I am Launcelot, the Jew's man, and I am sure Margery your wife is my mother That were a kind of bastard hope indeed; so the sins of my mother should be visited upon me Truly then I fear you are damn'd both by father and mother; thus when I shun Scylla, your father, I fall into Charybdis, your mother; well, you are gone both ways I saw it in his hand, It was a handkerchief, an antique token My father gave my mother Our scene is alt'red from a serious thing, And now chang'd to 'The Beggar and the King.' My dangerous cousin, let your mother in The tender Prince Would fain have come with me to meet your Grace, But by his mother was perforce withheld Yet touch this sparingly, as 'twere far off; Because, my lord, you know my mother lives First, if all obstacles were cut away, And that my path were even to the crown, As the ripe revenue and due of birth, Yet so much is my poverty of spirit, So mighty and so many my defects, That I would rather hide me from my greatness- Being a bark to brook no mighty sea- Than in my greatness covet to be hid, And in the vapour of my glory smother'd O Dorset, speak not to me, get thee gone! Death and destruction dogs thee at thy heels; Thy mother's name is ominous to children Go, hie thee, hie thee from this slaughter-house, Lest thou increase the number of the dead, And make me die the thrall of Margaret's curse, Nor mother, wife, nor England's counted queen Ah, my poor princes! ah, my tender babes! My unblown flowers, new-appearing sweets! If yet your gentle souls fly in the air And be not fix'd in doom perpetual, Hover about me with your airy wings And hear your mother's lamentation Thy Clarence he is dead that stabb'd my Edward; And the beholders of this frantic play, Th' adulterate Hastings, Rivers, Vaughan, Grey, Untimely smother'd in their dusky graves Go with me, And in the breath of bitter words let's smother My damned son that thy two sweet sons smother'd Is she not down so late, or up so early? What unaccustom'd cause procures her hither? Enter Mother Nurse, will you go with me into my closet To help me sort such needful ornaments As you think fit to furnish me to-morrow? Mother Lady! lady! lady! Alas, alas! Help, help! My lady's dead! O weraday that ever I was born! Some aqua-vitae, ho! My lord! my lady! Enter Mother Have I thought long to see this morning's face, And doth it give me such a sight as this? Mother And here in sight of heaven to Rome I swear, If Saturnine advance the Queen of Goths, She will a handmaid be to his desires, A loving nurse, a mother to his youth Give me the poniard; you shall know, my boys, Your mother's hand shall right your mother's wrong Now bring them in, for I will play the cook, And see them ready against their mother comes In faith, I lie; My thoughts were like unbridled children, grown Too headstrong for their mother He is very well-favour'd, and he speaks very shrewishly; one would think his mother's milk were scarce out of him O that she could speak now like a wood woman! Well, I kiss her- why there 'tis; here's my mother's breath up and down Your gallery Have we pass'd through, not without much content In many singularities; but we saw not That which my daughter came to look upon, The statue of her mother Quotes for: Shakespeare Quotes
Source: Project Gutenburg Texts
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