Woe Is Me Shakespeare Quotes & Sayings

One woe doth tread upon another's heel. So fast they follow. — William Shakespeare

She marking them begins a wailing note And sings extemporally a woeful ditty How love makes young men thrall and old men dote How love is wise in folly, foolish-witty Her heavy anthem still concludes in woe, And still the choir of echoes answer so. — William Shakespeare

O hard-believing love, how strange it seems!
Not to believe, and yet too credulous:
Thy weal and woe are both of them extremes;
Despair and hope make thee ridiculous:
The one doth flatter thee in thoughts unlikely,
In likely thoughts the other kills thee quickly. — William Shakespeare

Woe to that land that's governed by a child. — William Shakespeare

Woe, destruction, ruin, and decay; the worst is death and death will have his day. — William Shakespeare

Lords, I protest my soul is full of woe
That blood should sprinkle me to make me grow.
Come, mourn with me for what I do lament,
And put sullen black incontinent.
I'll make a voyage to the Holy Land
To wash this blood off from my guilty hand.
March sadly after. Grace my mournings here
In weeping after this untimely bier. — William Shakespeare

This day's black fate on more days doth depend;
This but begins the woe, others must end. — William Shakespeare

Though Death be poor, it ends a mortal woe. — William Shakespeare

30 When to the sessions of sweet silent thought I summon up remembrance of things past, I sigh the lack of many a thing I sought, And with old woes new wail my dear time's waste; Then can I drown an eye (unus'd to flow) For precious friends hid in death's dateless night, And weep afresh love's long since cancell'd woe, And moan th' expense of many a vanish'd sight; Then can I grieve at grievances foregone, And heavily from woe to woe tell o'er The sad account of fore-bemoaned moan, Which I new pay as if not paid before: But if the while I think on thee, dear friend, All losses are restor'd, and sorrows end. — William Shakespeare

Then hate me when thou wilt; if ever, now;
Now, while the world is bent my deeds to cross,
Join with the spite of fortune, make me bow,
And do not drop in for an after-loss:
Ah, do not, when my heart hath 'scoped this sorrow,
Come in the rearward of a conquer'd woe;
Give not a windy night a rainy morrow,
To linger out a purposed overthrow.
If thou wilt leave me, do not leave me last,
When other petty griefs have done their spite
But in the onset come; so shall I taste
At first the very worst of fortune's might,
And other strains of woe, which now seem woe,
Compared with loss of thee will not seem so. — William Shakespeare

So many miseries have craz'd my voice,
That my woe-wearied tongue is still and mute. — William Shakespeare

Sonnet 129
The expense of spirit in a waste of shame
Is lust in action; and till action, lust
Is perjured, murderous, bloody, full of blame,
Savage, extreme, rude, cruel, not to trust,
Enjoy'd no sooner but despised straight,
Past reason hunted, and no sooner had
Past reason hated, as a swallow'd bait
On purpose laid to make the taker mad;
Mad in pursuit and in possession so;
Had, having, and in quest to have, extreme;
A bliss in proof, and proved, a very woe;
Before, a joy proposed; behind, a dream.
All this the world well knows; yet none knows well
To shun the heaven that leads men to this hell. — William Shakespeare

Why, headstrong liberty is lashed with woe.
There's nothing situate under heaven's eye
But hath his bound, in earth, in sea, in sky. — William Shakespeare

Sigh no more, ladies, sigh nor more;
Men were deceivers ever;
One foot in sea and one on shore,
To one thing constant never;
Then sigh not so,
But let them go,
And be you blithe and bonny;
Converting all your sounds of woe
Into. Hey nonny, nonny.
Sing no more ditties, sing no mo,
Or dumps so dull and heavy;
The fraud of men was ever so,
Since summer first was leavy.
Then sigh not so,
But let them go,
And be you blithe and bonny,
Converting all your sounds of woe
Into. Hey, nonny, nonny. — William Shakespeare

Headstrong liberty is lashed with woe. — William Shakespeare

Mercy is not itself, that oft looks so; Pardon is still the nurse of second woe. — William Shakespeare

O' thinkest thou we shall ever meet again? I doubt it not; and all these woes shall serve For sweet discourses in our times to come. — William Shakespeare

Like a red morn that ever yet betokened,
Wreck to the seaman, tempest to the field,
Sorrow to the shepherds, woe unto the birds,
Gusts and foul flaws to herdmen and to herds. — William Shakespeare

KING HENRY VI:
Would I were dead, if God's good will were so;
For what is in this world but grief and woe? — William Shakespeare

O, woe is me T' have seen what I have seen, see what I see! — William Shakespeare

Seems," madam? Nay, it is; I know not "seems."
'Tis not alone my inky cloak, good mother,
Nor customary suits of solemn black,
Nor windy suspiration of forced breath,
No, nor the fruitful river in the eye,
Nor the dejected 'havior of the visage,
Together with all forms, moods, shapes of grief,
That can denote me truly: these indeed seem,
For they are actions that a man might play:
But I have that within which passeth show;
These but the trappings and the suits of woe. — William Shakespeare

O lords,
When I have said, cry 'woe!' the queen, the queen,
The sweet'st, dear'st creature's dead,
and vengeance for't
Not dropp'd down yet. — William Shakespeare

These times of woe afford no time to woo. — William Shakespeare

If thou wilt leave me, do not leave me last,
When other petty griefs have done their spite,
But in the onset come: so shall I taste
At first the very worst of fortune's might;
And other strains of woe, which now seem woe,
Compar'd with loss of thee will not seem so. — William Shakespeare

I'll tell everyone about our stellar apartment - though maybe I'll bump us up to Park Slope - and about my fabulous publishing internship - I think I'll pretend it's a salaried job." Come to think about it, this reunion seemed like a really bad idea. I leaned against the counter in defeat. "Oh, God. I haven't done anything. I'm going to show up and be a failure.""'Oh, woe is me,'" Eva said from back at the mirror."'To have seen what I have seen,see what I see!'"That was the problem with living with a former theatre major. Sometimes she rebuked me with Shakespeare. — Allison Parr

Woe is forerun with woe. — William Shakespeare

But woe is me! too early I attended
A youthful suit- it was to gain my grace-
O, one by nature's outwards so commended
That maidens' eyes stuck over all his face.
Love lacked a dwelling and made him her place;
And when in his fair parts she did abide,
She was new lodged and newly deified — William Shakespeare

These, indeed, seem; For they are actions that a man might play; But I have that within which passes show - [85] These but the trappings and the suits of woe.166 — William Shakespeare

O, let us pay the time but needful woe,
Since it hath been beforehand with our griefs.
This England never did, nor never shall,
Lie at the proud foot of a conqueror
But when it first did help to wound itself.
Now these her princes are come home again,
Come the three corners of the world in arms,
And we shall shock them. Nought shall make us rue
If England to itself do rest but true. — William Shakespeare

Though those that are betray'd Do feel the treason sharply, yet the traitor stands in worse case of woe — William Shakespeare

Woe to that land that's govern'd by a child! — William Shakespeare

Hath Romeo slain himself? Say thou but ay,
And that bare vowel ay shall poison more
Than the death-darting eye of cockatrice.
I am not I,if there be such an ay,
Or those eyes shut,that make thee answer ay:
If he be slain say ay,or if not,no:
Brief sounds,determine of my weal or woe. — William Shakespeare

How heavy do I journey on the way,
When what I seek (my weary travel's end)
Doth teach that ease and that repose to say,
"Thus far the miles are measur'd from thy friend."
The beast that bears me, tired with my woe,
Plods [dully] on, to bear that weight in me,
As if by some instinct the wretch did know
His rider lov'd not speed, being made from thee.
The 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. — William Shakespeare

For never was a story of more woe than this of Juliet and her Romeo. — William Shakespeare

When we our betters see bearing our woes,
We scarcely think our miseries our foes. — William Shakespeare

Woe doth the heavier sit where it perceives it is but faintly borne. — William Shakespeare

All love's pleasure shall not match its woe. — William Shakespeare