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If all the year were playing holidays To sport would be as tedious as to work.
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
Year
Falstaff
Work
Holidays
Years
Tedious
Would
Memorable
Holiday
Sport
Playing
Sports
More quotes by William Shakespeare
Blessed are the peacemakers on earth.
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Women may fail when there is no strength in man
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My love is thine to teach teach it but how, And thou shalt see how apt it is to learn. Any hard lesson that may do thee good.
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For thou hast given me in this beauteous face A world of earthly blessings to my soul, If sympathy of love unite our thoughts.
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The peace of heaven is theirs that lift their swords, in such a just and charitable war.
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A good man's fortune may grow out at heels.
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O horror! Horror! Horror! Tongue nor heart Cannot conceive nor name thee!
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Words spoken can not be recalled so think twice before you speak.
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Heaven - the treasury of everlasting life.
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Costly thy habit [dress] as thy purse can buy But not expressed in fancy - rich, not gaudy. For the apparel oft proclaims the man.
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I can give the loser leave to chide.
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Romeo: I dreamt a dream tonight. Mercutio: And so did I. Romeo: Well, what was yours? Mercutio: That dreamers often lie. Romeo: In bed asleep while they do dream things true.
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Ah, what a sign it is of evil life, Where death's approach is seen so terrible!
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Though age from folly could not give me freedom, It does from childishness.
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Grim-visaged war hath smoothed his wrinkled front And now, instead of mounting barbed steeds To fright the souls of fearful adversaries, He capers nimbly in a lady's chamber To the lascivious pleasing of a lute.
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The web of our life is of a mingled yarn, good and ill together: our virtues would be proud if our faults whipped them not and our crimes would despair if they were not cherished by our own virtues.
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While we lie tumbling in the hay.
William Shakespeare
This goodly frame, the earth, seems to me a sterile promontory.
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Opinion, a sovereign mistress of effects.
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Grace me no grace, nor uncle me no uncle I am no traitor's uncle, and that word grace In an ungracious mouth is but profane.
William Shakespeare
