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And thus I clothe my naked villainy With odd old ends stol'n out of holy writ And seem a saint, when most I play the devil.
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
Naked
Thus
Devil
Holy
Villainy
Seem
Clothe
Ends
Writ
Seems
Odd
Play
Saint
More quotes by William Shakespeare
That which is now a horse, even with a thought The rack dislimms, and makes it indistinct As water is in water
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A lover's eyes will gaze an eagle blind.
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Praising what is lost makes the remembrance dear
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These earthly godfathers of Heaven's lights, that give a name to every fixed star, have no more profit of their shining nights than those that walk and know not what they are.
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Why should you think that I should woo in scorn? Scorn and derision never come in tears: Look, when I vow, I weep and vows so born, In their nativity all truth appears. How can these things in me seem scorn to you, Bearing the badge of faith, to prove them true?
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Love is the greatest of dreams, yet the worst of nightmares.
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A lover goes toward his beloved as enthusiastically as a schoolboy leaving his books, but when he leaves his girlfriend, he feels as miserable as the schoolboy on his way to school. (Act 2, scene 2)
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The small amount of foolery wise men have makes a great show.
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With love's light wings did I o'er-perch these walls, for stony limits cannot hold love out
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And thou, all-shaking thunder, Strike flat the thick rotundity o' the world! Crack nature's moulds, all germens spill at once That makes ingrateful man!
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This royal throne of kings, this scepter'd isle, This earth of majesty, this seat of Mars, This other Eden, demi-Paradise.
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There's villainous news abroad.
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O, swear not by the moon, the fickle moon, the inconstant moon, that monthly changes in her circle orb, Lest that thy love prove likewise variable
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Thou shalt be free As mountain winds: but then exactly do All points of my command.
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Now join your hands, and with your hands your hearts.
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Life... is a paradise to what we know of death.
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Time doth transfix the flourish set on youth And delves the parallels in beauty's brow.
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One half of me is yours, the other half is yours, Mine own, I would say but if mine, then yours, And so all yours.
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For honesty coupled to beauty, is to have honey a sauce to sugar.
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There is thy gold, worse poison to men's souls, Doing more murder in this loathsome world, Than these poor compounds that thou mayst not sell.
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