Ethics and Morality

There is no terror, Cassius, in your threats; For I am arm’d so strong in honesty That they pass by me as the idle wind, Which I respect not.

Let’s carve him as a dish fit for the gods, Not hew him as a carcass fit for hounds.

The abuse of greatness is when it disjoins Remorse from power.

There is some soul of goodness in things evil, Would men observingly distill it out.

Therefore doth heaven divide The state of man in divers functions, Setting endeavor in continual motion; To which is fixed, as an aim or butt, Obedience: for so work the honeybees, Creatures that by a rule in nature teach The act of order to a peopled kingdom.

I know thee not, old man: fall to thy prayers; How ill white hairs become a fool and jester!

Commit The oldest sins the newest kind of ways.

O, what a world of vile ill-favor’d faults Looks handsome in three hundred pounds a year!

How far that little candle throws his beams! So shines a good deed in a naughty world.

The man that hath no music in himself, Nor is not mov’d with concord of sweet sounds, Is fit for treasons, stratagems, and spoils; The motions of his spirit are dull as night, And his affections dark as Erebus: Let no such man be trusted.

To do a great right, do a little wrong.

Bassanio: Do all men kill the things they do not love? Shylock: Hates any man the thing he would not kill?

There is no vice so simple but assumes Some mark of virtue on his outward parts.

In law, what plea so tainted and corrupt But, being season’d with a gracious voice, Obscures the show of evil?

I will not jump with common spirits And rank me with the barbarous multitude.

Let none presume To wear an undeserved dignity. O! that estates, degrees, and offices Were not deriv’d corruptly, and that clear honor Were purchas’d by the merit of the wearer.

O father Abram! what these Christians are, Whose own hard dealing teaches them suspect The thoughts of others.

I’ll seal to such a bond, And say there is much kindness in the Jew.

A goodly apple rotten at the heart. O, what a goodly outside falsehood hath!

The devil can cite Scripture for his purpose.

How like a fawning publican he looks! I hate him for he is a Christian.

Constant you are, But yet a woman: and for secrecy, No lady closer; for I well believe Thou wilt not utter what thou dost not know; And so far will I trust thee, gentle Kate.

Apothecary: My poverty, but not my will, consents. Romeo: I pay thy poverty, and not thy will.

Upon his brow shame is asham’d to sit.