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But shall we wear these glories for a day? Or shall they last, and we rejoice in them?
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
Glory
Shall
Lasts
Last
Glories
Rejoice
Wear
More quotes by William Shakespeare
Now the fair goddess, Fortune, Fall deep in love with thee, and her great charms Misguide thy opposers' swords!
William Shakespeare
Why then, O brawling love! O loving hate! O any thing, of nothing first create! O heavy lightness, serious vanity, Misshapen chaos of well-seeming forms, Feather of lead, bright smoke, cold fire, sick health, Still-waking sleep, that is not what it is! This love feel I, that feel no love in this.
William Shakespeare
Weed your better judgments of all opinion that grows rank in them.
William Shakespeare
On a day - alack the day! - Love, whose month is ever May, Spied a blossom passing fair Playing in the wanton air
William Shakespeare
In nature there's no blemish but the mind. None can be called deformed but the unkind.
William Shakespeare
Abandon all remorse On horror's head horrors accumulate.
William Shakespeare
I crave fit disposition for my wife Due reference of place, and exhibition With such accommodation, and besort, As levels with her breeding.
William Shakespeare
We, ignorant of ourselves, Beg often our own harms, which the wise powers Deny us for our good so find we profit By losing of our prayers.
William Shakespeare
O no, thy love though much, is not so great, It is my love that keeps mine eye awake, Mine own true love that doth my rest defeat, To play the watchman ever for thy sake. For thee watch I, whilst thou dost wake elsewhere, From me far off, with others all too near.
William Shakespeare
But what's so blessed-fair that fears no blot? Thou mayst be false, and yet I know it not.
William Shakespeare
Ay me! sad hours seem long.
William Shakespeare
O, let him pass. He hates him That would upon the rack of this tough world Stretch him out longer.
William Shakespeare
Mirth cannot move a soul in agony.
William Shakespeare
These violent delights have violent ends And in their triump die, like fire and powder Which, as they kiss, consume
William Shakespeare
The stroke of death is as a lover's pinch, which hurts and is desired.
William Shakespeare
That which ordinary men are fit for, I am qualified in. and the best of me is diligence.
William Shakespeare
This is a way to kill a wife with kindness.
William Shakespeare
He receives comfort like cold porridge.
William Shakespeare
And do as adversaries do in law, strive mightily, but eat and drink as friends.
William Shakespeare
Friends, Romans, countrymen, lend me your ears I come to bury Caesar, not to praise him.
William Shakespeare
