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O, what a goodly outside falsehood hath!
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
Dishonesty
Falsehood
Hath
Outside
Lying
Shylock
Goodly
Merchants
Venice
More quotes by William Shakespeare
Advance our standards, set upon our foes Our ancient word of courage, fair Saint George, Inspire us with the spleen of fiery dragons!
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Within the hollow crown That rounds the mortal temples of a king Keeps Death his court.
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And in the morn and liquid dew of youth, Contagious blastments are are most imminent.
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Wisdom and goodness to the vile seem vile Filths savour but themselves.
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The sense of death is most in apprehension.
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I must to the barber's, monsieur, for methinks I am marvellous hairy about the face.
William Shakespeare
Alas, our frailty is the cause , not we! For, such as we are made of, such we be.
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Though now this grained face of mine be hid In sap-consuming winter's drizzled snow, And all the conduits of my blood froze up, Yet hath my night of life some memory, My wasting lamps some fading glimmer left, My dull deaf ears a little use to hear.
William Shakespeare
Sycorax has grown into a hoop
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Shine out fair sun, till I have bought a glass, That I may see my shadow as I pass.
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Lay on, McDuff, and be damned he who first cries, 'Hold, enough!
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Say as you think and speak it from your souls.
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Never anything can be amiss, when simpleness and duty tender it.
William Shakespeare
Hamlet: Is this a prologue, or the posy of a ring? Ophelia: 'Tis brief, my lord. Hamlet: As woman's love.
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But virtue never will be mov'd, Though lewdness court it in a shape of heaven.
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Every why has a wherefore.
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A heavier task could not have been impos'd, Than I to speak my griefs unspeakable.
William Shakespeare
Methought I heard a voice cry 'Sleep no more! Macbeth does murder sleep', the innocent sleep, Sleep that knits up the ravell'd sleeve of care, The death of each day's life, sore labour's bath, Balm of hurt minds, great nature's second course, Chief nourisher in life's feast...
William Shakespeare
Hang him, swaggering rascal!
William Shakespeare
Tis beauty truly blent, whose red and white Nature's own sweet and cunning hand laid on.
William Shakespeare
