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O, beware, my lord, of jealousy It is the green-ey'd monster, which doth mock The meat it feeds on.
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
Meat
Feeds
Envy
Mock
Tragedy
Beware
Green
Doth
Lord
Monster
Jealousy
Jealous
Envied
Monsters
Mockery
More quotes by William Shakespeare
Against self-slaughter There is a prohibition so divine That cravens my weak hand.
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Britain is A world by itself, and we will nothing pay For wearing our own noses.
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A college of wit-crackers cannot flout me out of my humor. Dost thou think I care for a satire or an epigram?
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I shall show the cinders of my spirits Through the ashes of my chance.
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O that a lady, of one man refused, Should of another therefore be abused!
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Farewell the tranquil mind! farewell content! Farewell the plumed troops, and the big wars That make ambition virtue.
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O father Abram, what these Christians are, Whose own hard dealing teaches them suspect The thoughts of others!
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You have witchcraft in your lips, there is more eloquence in a sugar touch of them than in the tongues of the French council and they should sooner persuade Harry of England than a general petition of monarchs.
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The weary sun hath made a golden set And by the bright tract of his fiery car Gives token of a goodly day to-morrow.
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I heard a bustling rumor like a fray, And the wind blows it from the Capitol.
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If to do were as easy as to know what were good to do, chapels had been churches, and poor men's cottage princes' palaces.
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Thrust your head into the public street, to gaze on Christian fools with varnish'd faces.
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Crowns have their compass-length of days their date- Triumphs their tomb-felicity, her fate- Of nought but earth can earth make us partaker, But knowledge makes a king most like his Maker.
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Within the hollow crown That rounds the mortal temples of a king Keeps Death his court.
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Love all, trust a few, do wrong to none.
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Love, which teacheth me that thou and I am one
William Shakespeare
My crown is called content, a crown that seldom kings enjoy.
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Truly thou art damned, like an ill-roasted egg, all on one side.
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Angels are bright still, though the brightest fell.
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Every man has his fault, and honesty is his.
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