Hamlet Ophelia Quotes

Said Hamlet to Ophelia, I'll draw a sketch of thee. What kind of pencil shall I use? 2B or not 2B?

You speak like a green girl / unsifted in such perilous circumstances.

Tis in my memory lock'd, And you yourself shall keep the key of it.

He is dead and gone, lady, He is dead and gone; At his head a grass-green turf, At his heels a stone.

Hamlet: Is this a prologue, or the posy of a ring? Ophelia: 'Tis brief, my lord. Hamlet: As woman's love.

And keep you in the rear of your affection, Out of the shot and danger of desire, The chariest maid is prodigal enough If she unmasks her beauty to the moon.

Do not, as some ungracious pastors do, Show me the steep and thorny way to heaven; Whilst, like a puff'd and reckless libertine, Himself the primrose path of dalliance treads And recks not his own read.

woah is me to have seen what i seen see what i see

My words fly up, my thoughts remain below

Words without thoughts never to heaven go.

What's Hecuba to him, or he to Hecuba, That he should weep for her?

More matter with less art.

So full of artless jealousy is guilt, It spills itself in fearing to be spilt.

I loved Ophelia. Forty thousand brothers could not, with all their quantity of love, make up my sum.

I do not set my life at a pin's fee, And for my soul, what can it do to that, Being a thing immortal as itself?

A man can smile and smile and be a villain.

One may smile, and smile, and be a villain.

Hamlet: Lady, shall I lie in your lap? Ophelia: No, my lord. Hamlet: DId you think I meant country matters? Ophelia: I think nothing, my lord. Hamlet: That's a fair thought to lie between maids' legs. Ophelia: What is, my lord? Hamlet: Nothing.

That if you be honest and fair, your honesty should admit no discourse to your beauty.

With devotion's visage and pious action we do sugar o'er the devil himself.

When sorrows come, they come not single spies, but in battalions.

O God, O God, how weary, stale, flat, and unprofitable seem to me all the uses of this world!

Something is rotten in the state of Denmark.

You Jig, you amble, and you lisp.

I will speak daggers to her, but use none.

The time is out of joint : O cursed spite, that ever I was born to set it right!

I have heard of your paintings too, well enough; God has given you one face, and you make yourselves another: you jig, you amble, and you lisp, and nick-name God's creatures, and make your wantonness your ignorance. Go to, I'll no more on't; it hath made me mad.

What should such fellows as I do crawling between earth and heaven?

Could beauty, my lord, have better commerce than with honesty?

There's rosemary, that's for remembrance; pray you, love, remember: and there is pansies, that's for thoughts. There's fennel for you, and columbines: — there 's rue for you; and here's some for me: — we may call it, herb of grace o'Sundays: — you may wear your rue with a difference. — There's a daisy: — I would give you some violets; but they withered all, when my father died: — They say, he made a good end.

Pray, love, remember: and there is pansies, that's for thoughts.

There's rosemary, that's for remembrance. Pray you, love, remember.

If thou dost marry, I'll give thee this plague for thy dowry: be thou as chaste as ice, as pure as snow, thou shalt not escape calumny.

But to my mind, though I am native here, And to the manner born, it is a custom, More honored in the breach than the observance.

From this time forth My thoughts be bloody, or be nothing worth!

What if this cursed hand Were thicker than itself with brother's blood Is there not rain enough in the sweet heaves To wash it white as snow?

Now see that noble and most sovereign reason, Like sweet bells jangled, out of tune and harsh.

The lady doth protest too much, methinks.

Nymph, in thy orisons be all my sins remembered!

Though this be madness, yet there is method in't.

I must be cruel only to be kind; Thus bad begins, and worse remains behind.

There is nothing either good or bad but thinking makes it so.

Give every man thy ear, but few thy voice.

The cat will mew, and dog will have his day.

And flights of angels sing thee to thy rest!

We know what we are, but know not what we may be.

To hell, allegiance! vows, to the blackest devil! Conscience, and grace, to the profoundest pit! I dare damnation: To this point I stand,-- That both the worlds I give to negligence, Let come what comes; only I'll be reveng'd.

Give every man thine ear, but few thy voice; Take each man's censure, but reserve thy judgment.

This above all; to thine own self be true.

God has given you one face, and you make yourself another.