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If you can look into the seeds of time, and say which grain will grow and which will not, speak then unto me.
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
Grows
Knowledge
Future
Speak
Look
Unto
Looks
Grain
Time
Seeds
Grow
More quotes by William Shakespeare
Death rock me asleep.
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Thou art sad get thee a wife, get thee a wife!
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The trust I have is in mine innocence, and therefore am I bold and resolute.
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Beauty provoketh thieves sooner than gold.
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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.
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Thoughts are but dreams till their effects are tried.
William Shakespeare
Discomfort guides my tongue And bids me speak of nothing but despair.
William Shakespeare
O, let him pass. He hates him That would upon the rack of this tough world Stretch him out longer.
William Shakespeare
No longer mourn for me when I am dead Than you shall hear the surly sullen bell Give warning to the world that I am fled From this vile world, with vilest worms to dwell.
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The best quarrels, in the heat, are cursed by those that feel their sharpness.
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This sleep is sound indeed this is a sleep That from this golden rigol hath divorc'd So many English kings.
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Tell me where is fancy bred, Or in the heart, or in the head? How begot, how nourished? Reply, reply. It is engend'red in the eyes, With gazing fed, and fancy dies In the cradle where it lies.
William Shakespeare
O that a lady, of one man refused, Should of another therefore be abused!
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The gods are deaf to hot and peevish vows. They are polluted off'rings, more abhorred! Than spotted livers in the sacrifice.
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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?
William Shakespeare
On the bat’s back I do fly After summer merrily.
William Shakespeare
Thy best of rest is sleep, And that thou oft provok'st yet grossly fear'st Thy death, which is no more.
William Shakespeare
Commit the oldest sins the newest kind of ways.
William Shakespeare
Confusion now hath made his masterpiece.
William Shakespeare
...lest too light winning make the prize light.
William Shakespeare
