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Conscience doth make cowards of us all.
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
Truth
Make
Cowards
Doth
Coward
Honesty
Conscience
Creativity
Creative
More quotes by William Shakespeare
I see men's judgments are A parcel of their fortunes and things outward Do draw the inward quality after them, To suffer all alike.
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The bird that hath been limed in a bush, with trembling wings misdoubteth every bush.
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Men's faults do seldom to themselves appear.
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Thy best of rest is sleep, And that thou oft provok'st yet grossly fear'st Thy death, which is no more.
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They say miracles are past.
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What is aught but as 'tis valued?
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They do not love that do not show their love. The course of true love never did run smooth. Love is a familiar. Love is a devil. There is no evil angel but Love.
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Love denied blights the soul we owe to God.
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I'll speak in a monstrous little voice.
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I have supped full with horrors.
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By that sin fell the angels.
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The eye sees all, but the mind shows us what we want to see.
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I am falser than vows made in wine.
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Help, master, help! here's a fish hangs in the net, like a poor man's right in the law 'twill hardly come out.
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O for a Muse of fire, that would ascend The brightest heaven of invention, A kingdom for a stage, princes to act And monarchs to behold the swelling scene!
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Then let thy love be younger than thyself, Or thy affection cannot hold the bent.
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I thank you all and here dismiss you all, and to the love and favor of my country commit myself, my person, and the cause.
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Lions make leopards tame.
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I shall despair. There is no creature loves me And if I die no soul will pity me: And wherefore should they, since that I myself Find in myself no pity to myself?
William Shakespeare
You see me here, you gods, a poor old man, As full of grief as age wretched in both.
William Shakespeare
