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"Tis an ill cook that cannot lick his own fingers."
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"But ... but what if I hit you?A snort. "You're not going to hit me."How do you know? I bristled at his amused tone. "I could hit you. Even master swordsmen make mistakes. I could get a lucky shot, or you might not see me coming. I don't want to hurt you.He favored me with another patient look. "And how much experience do you have with swords and weapons in general? "Um. I glanced down at the saber in my hand. "Thirty seconds?He smiled, that calm, irritatingly confident smirk. "You're not going to hit me."
"Truly competent Literary Detectives are as rare as truthful men, Mr. Tweed -- you can see her potential as clearly as I can. Frightened of someone stealing your thunder, perhaps?"
"Tis an ill cook that cannot lick his own fingers."
"Technically, according to the notion of the will of God, there is no such a thing as a competent surgeon."
"If you look at the 19 hijackers who came to the United States in Sept. 11 to commit those acts, if you'd looked at them before they got onto a plane, you could probably say the same thing. There were various levels of expertise, various levels of competence."
"Superficial people consider themselves capable of doing everything. The question, however, is who is willing to hire them?"
"To address questions of scientific responsibility does not necessarily imply that one needs technical competence in a particular field (e.g. biology) to evaluate certain technical matters."
Explore more quotes by William Shakespeare
"Weigh oath with oath, and you will nothing weigh,Your vows to her and me, put in two scales,Will even weigh, and both as light as tales."
"For all that beauty that doth cover theeIs but the seemly raiment of my heart,Which in thy breast doth live, as thine in me.How can I then be elder than thou art?"
"There's a great spirit gone! Thus did I desire it.What our contempts doth often hurl from us,We wish it ours again. The present pleasure,By revolution lowering, does becomeThe opposite of itself. She's good, being gone.The hand could pluck her back that shoved her on."
"For thy sweet love remembr'd such wealth bringsThat then, I scorn to change my state with kings."
"BOYETA mark! O, mark but that mark! A mark, says my lady!Let the mark have a prick in't, to mete at, if it may be.MARIAWide o' the bow hand! i' faith, your hand is out.COSTARDIndeed, a' must shoot nearer, or he'll ne'er hit the clout.BOYETAn if my hand be out, then belike your hand is in.COSTARDThen will she get the upshoot by cleaving the pin.MARIACome, come, you talk greasily; your lips grow foul.COSTARDShe's too hard for you at pricks, sir: challenge her to bowl.BOYETI fear too much rubbing. Good night, my good owl.Exeunt BOYET and MARIA."
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