Merchant Of Venice Love Quotes

love is blind and lovers cannot see the pretty follies that themselves commit

One half of me is yours, the other half is yours, Mine own, I would say; but if mine, then yours, And so all yours.

Love and kindness are never wasted. They always make a difference. They bless the one who receives them, and they bless you, the giver.

Do all men kill all the things they do not love? Shylock: Hates any man the thing he would not kill? Bassanio: Every offence is not a hate at first.

Beshrew me but I love her heartily, For she is wise, if I can judge of her, And fair she is, if that mine eyes be true, And true she is, as she hath proved herself: And therefore like herself, wise, fair, and true, Shall she be placed in my constant soul.

I have a wife I love. I wish she were in heaven so she could appeal to some power to make this dog Jew change his mind. NERISSA It’s nice you’re offering to sacrifice her behind her back. That wish of yours could start quite an argument back at home.

In such a night stood Dido with a willow in her hand upon the wild sea-banks, and waft her love to come again to Carthage Jessica: In such a night Medea gathered the enchanted herbs that did renew old Aeson. Lorenzo: In such a night did Jessica steal from the wealthy Jew, and with an unthrift love did run from Venice, as far as Belmont. Jessica: In such a night did young Lorenzo swear he lov'd her well, stealing her soul with many vows of faith, and ne'er a true one. Lorenzo: In such a night did pretty Jessica (like a little shrow) slander her love, and he forgave it her. Jessica: I would out-night you, did nobody come; but hark, I hear the footing of a man.

Mislike me not for my complexion, The shadowed livery of the burnished sun, To whom I am a neighbor and near bred. Bring me the fairest creature northward born, Where Phoebus' fire scarce thaws the icicles, And let us make incision for your love To prove whose blood is reddest, his or mine.

Who are you? Tell me for more certainty. Albeit, I'll swear that I do know your tongue. Lorenzo: Lorenzo, and thy love. Jessica: Lorenzo, certain, and my love indeed. For who love I so much? And now who knows but you, Lorenzo, whether I am yours? Lorenzo: Heaven and thy thoughts are witness that thou art.

and what's his reason? I am a Jew. Hath not a Jew eyes? Hath not a Jew hands, organs, dimensions, senses, affections, passions? Fed with the same food, hurt with the same weapons, subject to the same diseases, healed by the same means, warmed and cooled by the same winter and summer as a Christian is? If you prick us, do we not bleed? If you tickle us; do we not laugh? If you poison us, do we not die? And if you wrong us, shall we not revenge? If we are like you in the rest, we will resemble you in that. If a Jew wrong a Christian, what is his humility? Revenge. If a Christian wrong a Jew, what should his sufferance be by Christian example? Why, revenge! The villainy you teach me I will execute, and it shall go hard but I will better the instruction.

Love is blind, and lovers cannot see the pretty follies that themselves commit

So tell me, Miss Fitt, do you know when your brother will return?" "No." I wet my lips. "Do you know Elijah?" He looked off to the right. "I know of your brother." "Oh?" "Of course." He folded his arms over his chest and returned his gaze to me. "Everyone knows of the Philadelphia Fitts.I even know of you." "You mean Allison told you about me." His lips twitched. "Certainly." I stroked my amethysts and made my expression passive. I didn't care one whit about her gossip-though I did wish she wouldn't talk about me to Clarence. I'd prefer if eligible young men learned my faults after meeting me. He flashed his eyebrows playfully, as if knowing where my thoughts had gone. "You needn't worry. She's said nothing unkind. She finds you amusing-she likes to talk, you know?" "I hadn't noticed," I said flatly. Saying Allison loved to gossip was like saying birds enjoyed flying. It was not so much a hobby as part of her physiology. Clarence's smile expanded, and his eyes crinkled. "Apparently there was an insult you gave her a few days ago, though...She had to ask me what it meant." My face warmed, and I looked away. "I believe I might have called her a spoiled Portia with no concept of mercy." He laughed and hit his knee. "That's right. Portia's speech on mercy in the final act of The Merchant of Venice. Allie had no idea what you meant." "In my defense, she was taunting me-" "With no mercy?" "Something like that," I mumbled, embarrassed he'd heard abou tit. "Oh,I have no doubt. One of Allie's charms is her childish teasing." He laughed again and shook his head. "Next time, though, I suggest you use less obscure insults. They might hit their mark better.

Then I’ll play the happy fool and get laugh lines on my face. I’d rather overload my liver with wine than starve my heart by denying myself fun. Why should any living man sit still like a statue? Why should he sleep when he’s awake? Why should he get ulcers from being crabby all the time? I love you, and I’m telling you this because I care about you, Antonio—there are men who always look serious. Their faces never move or show any expression, like stagnant ponds covered with scum. They’re silent and stern, and they think they’re wise and deep, important and respectable. When they talk, they think everybody else should keep quiet, and that even dogs should stop barking. I know a lot of men like that, Antonio. The only reason they’re considered wise is because they don’t say anything. I’m sure if they ever opened their mouths, everyone would see what fools they are. I’ll talk to you more about this some other time. In the meantime, cheer up. Don’t go around looking so glum. That’s my opinion, but what do I know? I’m a fool.

You that choose not by the view, 135 Chance as fair and choose as true! Since this fortune falls to you, Be content and seek no new. If you be well pleas’d with this, And hold your fortune for your bliss, 140 Turn to where your lady is And claim her with a loving kiss.

1595, Richard Field, fellow-alumnus of the King Edward grammar school in Stratford-upon-Avon, printed The lives of the noble Grecians and Romanes, compared together by that grave learned philosopher and historiographer, Plutarke of Chaeronea: translated out of Greeke into French by James Amiot, abbot of Bellozane, Bishop of Auxerre, one of the Kings privie counsell, and great Amner of France, and out of French into English, by Thomas North. This was the book that got Shakespeare thinking seriously about politics: monarchy versus republicanism versus empire; the choices we make and their tragic consequences; the conflict between public duty and private desire. He absorbed classical thought, but was not enslaved to it. Shakespeare was a thinker who always made it new, adapted his source materials, and put his own spin on them. In the case of Plutarch, he feminized the very masculine Roman world. Brutus and Caesar are seen through the prism of their wives, Portia and Calpurnia; Coriolanus through his mother, Volumnia; Mark Antony through his lover, Cleopatra. Roman women were traditionally silent, confined to the domestic sphere. Cleopatra is the very antithesis of such a woman, while Volumnia is given the full force of that supreme Ciceronian skill, a persuasive rhetorical voice.40 Timon of Athens is alone and unhappy precisely because his obsession with money has cut him off from the love of, and for, women (the only females in Timon’s strange play are two prostitutes). Paradoxically, the very masculinity of Plutarch’s version of ancient history stimulated Shakespeare into demonstrating that women are more than the equal of men. Where most thinkers among his contemporaries took the traditional view of female inferiority, he again and again wrote comedies in which the girls are smarter than the boys—Beatrice in Much Ado about Nothing, Rosalind in As You Like It, Portia in The Merchant of Venice—and tragedies in which women exercise forceful authority for good or ill (Tamora, Cleopatra, Volumnia, and Cymbeline’s Queen in his imagined antiquity, but also Queen Margaret in his rendition of the Wars of the Roses).41

No, precious creature: I had rather crack my sinews, break my back, Than you should such dishonour undergo, While I sit lazy by.

Tend to th’ master’s whistle.—Blow

Well, most of us think the “Merchant of Venice” is a porno script. On a more personal note, I’ve decided on pizza for dinner.

Some men there are love not a gaping pig;Some that are mad if they behold a cat;And others, when the bag-pipe sings i’ th’ nose,Cannot contain their urine, for affection.Shakesp.Merchant of Venice.2. Passion

Nerissa,” he murmured, his head cocked slightly to one side as though seeing her for the first time. A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Nerissa, who’s not seasick despite never bein’ aboard a ship, Nerissa who loves the taste of the sea on her lips and tongue, Nerissa whose eyes sparkle as she looks over the rollin’ swells, whose spirit is comin’ alive beneath me eyes because she’s in her element, she is. Nerissa. I should have known.” “That’s Lady Nerissa, to you,” she snapped. “And known what?” “Your name. Don’t ye know? It means ‘sea nymph.’” “It’s taken from a character in a Shakespeare play,” she shot back, uncomfortably. “The Merchant Of Venice.” “A sea sprite. Uh-huh. Explains everythin’, it does.” She stood up. Her knees were weak and she gripped her hands together to keep them from shaking. “Thank you for the hat, Captain O’ Devir. And now, if you don’t mind, I would like to go back to the cabin to… to rest.” “Stay up here and enjoy the fresh air. ’Tis good for the soul, it is.” “You won’t bother me?” “Am I botherin’ ye?” Yes, in ways you can’t even begin to imagine. She saw the twinkle in his eye. Or maybe you can. She looked away. “No,” she said, unable to meet his gaze. “You are not.

Gordon Carter raised both hands for silence. ‘The answer to all your questions is: “I have no idea.” Sorry, but there it is. Now, I have a pile of marking to do, and intend to get on with it. I’m sure you have a chemistry textbook or something you can look at.’ General groans greeted that. ‘Or I could always set you a lovely essay … We could recap some of our Merchant of Venice if you prefer?

In The Merchant of Venice, this Platonic test of character manifests as an actual test: the casket test. Portia’s suitors are presented with a gold casket, a silver casket, and a lead casket. One of them contains her portrait. To win her hand, a suitor must choose the correct casket. “If you do love me, you will find me out,” says Portia.

But all the story of the night told over, / And all their minds transfigured so together, / More witnesseth than fancy’s images, / And grows to something of great constancy; / But, howsoever, strange and admirable

Now the hungry lion roars, And the wolf behowls the moon,Whilst the heavy ploughman snores, All with weary task fordone