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And this, our life, exempt from public haunt, finds tongues in trees, books in the running brooks, sermons in stones, and good in everything.
William Shakespeare
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William Shakespeare
Age: 51 †
Born: 1564
Born: April 26
Died: 1616
Died: April 23
Actor
Dramaturge
Playwright
Poet
Stage Actor
Writer
Stratford-upon-Avon
Warwickshire
Shakespeare
The Bard
The Bard of Avon
William Shakspere
Swan of Avon
Bard of Avon
Shakespere
Shakespear
Shakspeare
Shackspeare
William Shake‐ſpeare
Tree
Wilderness
Venomous
Everything
Finds
Exempt
Book
Environment
Trees
Haunt
Good
Public
Adversity
Tongues
Life
Books
Environmental
Brooks
Natural
Tongue
Sermons
Running
Rivers
Retiring
Nature
Stones
Retirement
Earth
More quotes by William Shakespeare
I would we were all of one mind, and one mind good.
William Shakespeare
True, I talk of dreams, Which are the children of an idle brain, Begot of nothing but vain fantasy.
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And too soon Marred are those so early Made.
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But let the frame of things disjoint, both the worlds suffer, Ere we will eat our meal in fear, and sleep In the affliction of these terrible dreams That shake us nightly.
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I am your wife if you will marry me. If not, I'll die your maid. To be your fellow You may deny me, but I'll be your servant Whether you will or no.
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And sleep, that sometime shuts up sorrow's eye, Steal me awhile from mine own company.
William Shakespeare
Be just, and fear not. Let all the ends thou aim'st at be thy country's, Thy God's and truth's.
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Make passionate my sense of hearing.
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So holy writ in babes hath judgment shown When judges have been babes great floods have flown From simple sources, and great seas have dried When miracles have by the greatest been denied.
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O, my lord, You said that idle weeds are fast in growth: The prince my brother hath outgrown me far.
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I will be treble-sinewed, hearted, breathed, And fight maliciously for when mine hours Were nice and lucky, men did ransom lives Of me for jests but now I'll set my teeth And send to darkness all that stop me.
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How much more doth beauty beauteous seem by that sweet ornament which truth doth give!
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Princes have but their titles for their glories, An outward honor for an inward toil And, for unfelt imaginations, They often feel a world of restless cares.
William Shakespeare
Tell me where is fancy bred, Or in the heart, or in the head?
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And to the English court assemble now, From every region, apes of idleness!
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DEMETRIUS Relent, sweet Hermia: and, Lysander, yield Thy crazed title to my certain right. LYSANDER You have her father's love, Demetrius Let me have Hermia's: do you marry him.
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Is he on his horse? O happy horse, to bear the weight of Antony!
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Anger is like A full hot horse, who being allowed his way, Self-mettle tires him.
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Excellent wretch! Perdition catch my soul But I do love thee! and when I love thee not, Chaos is come again.
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If by chance I talk a little wild, forgive me I had it from my father.
William Shakespeare
