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I will speak daggers to her, but use none.
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
Horatio
Daggers
None
Use
Speak
Ophelia
More quotes by William Shakespeare
Put on The dauntless spirit of resolution.
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I desire you in friendship, and I will one way or other make you amends.
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Angels and ministers of grace defend us! Be thou a spirit of health, or goblin damn'd, Bring with thee airs from heaven, or blasts from hell, Be thy intents wicked, or charitable, Thou com'st in such a questionable shape, That I will speak to thee.
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Is this the generation of love? Hot blood, hot thoughts and hot deeds? Why, they are vipers. Is love a generation of vipers?
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This wimpled, whining, purblind, wayward boy, this Senior Junior, giant dwarf...Cupid.
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A countenance more in sorrow than in anger.
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I am not in the giving vein today.
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We will draw the curtain and show you the picture.
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Well-apparel'd April on the heel Of limping Winter treads.
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Sweets to the sweet.
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The summer's flower is to the summer sweet Though to itself it only live and die
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So fair and foul a day i had not seen.
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Time hath not yet so dried this blood of mine, Nor age so eat up my invention, Nor fortune made such havoc of my means, Nor my bad life reft me so much of friends, But they shall find awaked in such a kind Both strength of limb and policy of mind, Ability in means, and choice of friends, To quit me of them throughly.
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Now get you to my lady's chamber, and tell her, let her paint an inch thick, to this favour she must come make her laugh at that.
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At Christmas I no more desire a rose Than wish a snow in May's new-fangled mirth But like of each thing that in season grows.
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Dead shepherd, now I find thy saw of might. Whoever lov'd that lov'd not at first sight.
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This cold night will turn us all to fools and madmen.
William Shakespeare
Keep thy foot out of brothels, thy hand out of plackets, thy pen from lender's books, and defy the foul fiend.
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Tax not so bad a voice to slander music any more than once.
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For God's sake, let us sit upon the ground, and tell sad stories of the death of kings... All murdered for within the hollow crown that rounds the mortal temples of a king, keeps Death his court... and with a little pin bores through his castle wall, and farewell king!
William Shakespeare
