53 quotes
I wasted time, and now doth time waste me.
Richard II (1595)
Time travels in divers paces with divers persons. I'll tell you who Time ambles withal, who Time trots withal, who Time gallops withal, and who he stands still withal.
At your age,
The hey-day in the blood is tame, it's humble,
And waits upon the judgment.
We should hold day with the Antipodes,
If you would walk in absence of the sun.
You are old;
As you are old and reverend, you should be wise.
King Lear (1608)
O, call back yesterday, bid time return.
Richard II (1595)
For we are old, and on our quick'st decrees
The inaudible and noiseless foot of Time
Steals ere we can effect them.
Give me a staff of honor for mine age,
But not a sceptre to control the world.
Minutes, hours, days, months, and years,
Pass'd over to the end they were created,
Would bring white hairs unto a quiet grave.
Ah, what a life were this!
Time doth transfix the flourish set on youth
And delves the parallels in beauty's brow.
Why, Hal, 'tis my vocation. Hal: 'tis no sin for a man to labour in his vocation.
Yet, do thy worst, old Time; despite thy wrong,
My love shall in my verse ever live young.
Time's the king of men,
He's both their parent, and he is their grave,
And gives them what he will, not what they crave.
And, looking on it with lack-lustre eye,
Says very wisely, "It is ten o'clock:
Thus we may see," quoth he, "how the world wags."
Time is like a fashionable host
That slightly shakes his parting guest by the hand,
And with his arms outstretch'd, as he would fly
Grasps in the comer: welcome ever smiles.
Troilus and Cressida (1602)
Make use of time, let not advantage slip;
Beauty within itself should not be wasted:
Fair flowers that are not gather'd in their prime
Rot and consume themselves in little time.
Venus and Adonis (1593)
Good Hamlet, cast thy nighted color off,
And let thine eye look like a friend on Denmark.
Do not be forever with thy vailed lids
Seek for thy noble father in the dust:
Thou know'st tis common; all that lives must die,
Passing through nature to eternity.
Why, universal plodding poisons up
The nimble spirits in the arteries,
As motion and long-during action tires
The sinewy vigour of the traveller.
Nor age so eat up my invention.
What should we speak of
When we are old as you? When we shall hear
The rain and wind beat dark December.
Cymbeline (1611)