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I loved Ophelia. Forty thousand brothers could not, with all their quantity of love, make up my sum.
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
Brothers
Forty
Brother
Thousand
Polonius
Loved
Ophelia
Make
Horatio
Love
Tempest
Quantity
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Here will be an old abusing of God's patience and the king's English.
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This blessed plot, this earth, this realm, this England.
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Two households, both alike in dignity In fair Verona, where we lay our scene From ancient grudge break to new mutiny Where civil blood makes civil hands unclean. From forth the fatal loins of these two foes A pair of star-cross'd lovers take their life Whose misadventured piteous overthrows Do with their death bury their parents' strife.
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You know who you are, but know not who you could be.
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A whoreson jackanapes must take me up for swearing as if I borrowed mine oaths of him and might not spend them at my pleasure. When a gentleman is disposed to swear, it is not for any standers-by to curtail his oaths, ha?
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Things without all remedy should be without regard: what's done is done.
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Let us be Diana's foresters, gentlemen of the shade, minions of the moon
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Read o'er this And after, this, and then to breakfast with What appetite you have.
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My love is thaw'd Which, like a waxen image 'gainst a fire, bears no impression of the thing it was
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Love is heavy and light, bright and dark, hot and cold, sick and healthy, asleep and awake- its everything except what it is! (Act 1, scene 1)
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Ingratitude is monstrous and for the multitude to be ingrateful were to make a monster of the multitude of which we being members, should bring ourselves to be monstrous members.
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I hope to see London once ere I die.
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Tell me where is fancy bred, Or in the heart, or in the head?
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None can cure their harms by wailing them.
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The expedition of my violent love outrun the pauser, reason.
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I did never know so full a voice issue from so empty a heart: but the saying is true 'The empty vessel makes the greatest sound'.
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I wasted time, and now doth time waste me.
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Who would be so mocked with glory, or to live But in a dream of friendship, To have his pomp and all what state compounds But only painted, like his varnished friends?
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Whatever praises itself but in the deed, devours the deed in the praise.
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Sweets with sweets war not, joy delights in joy.
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