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The ides of March are come. Soothsayer: Ay, Caesar but not gone.
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
Come
Soothsayer
Caesar
March
Gone
More quotes by William Shakespeare
What's done cannot be undone. To bed, to bed, to bed.
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My heart laments that virtue cannot live Out of the teeth of emulation.
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Time, whose millioned accidents creep in betwixt vows, and change decrees of kings, tan sacred beauty, blunt the sharpest intents, divert strong minds to the course of altering things.
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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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What if this cursed hand Were thicker than itself with brother's blood Is there not rain enough in the sweet heaves To wash it white as snow?
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thy wit is a very bitter sweeting it is a most sharp sauce.
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For they are yet ear-kissing arguments.
William Shakespeare
Conversation should be pleasant without scurrility, witty without affectation, free without indecency, learned without conceitedness, novel without falsehood.
William Shakespeare
Conceit, more rich in matter than in words, Brags of his substance, not of ornament: They are but beggars that can count their worth But my true love is grown to such excess, I cannot sum up half my sum of wealth.
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Vile worm, thou wast o'erlook'd even in thy birth.
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Thou know'st 'tis common all that lives must die, Passing through nature to eternity.
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I'll look to like if looking, liking move.
William Shakespeare
Slander lives upon succession, For ever housed where it gets possession.
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What the vengeance, could he not speak 'em fair?
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There's some ill planet reigns: I must be patient till the heavens look With an aspect more favourable.
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In sooth I know not why I am so sad. It wearies me, you say it wearies you But how I caught it, found it, or came by it, What stuff 'tis made of, whereof it is born, I am to learn.
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Tear-falling pity dwells not in this eye.
William Shakespeare
A fool's bolt is soon shot.
William Shakespeare
Why, i' faith, methinks she's too low for a high praise, too brown for a fair praise and too little for a great praise: only this commendation I can afford her, that were she other than she is, she were unhandsome and being no other but as she is, I do not like her. (Benedick, from Much Ado About Nothing)
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Let none presume To wear an undeserved dignity. O that estates, degrees, and offices Were not derived corruptly, and that clear honour Were purchased by the merit of the wearer!
William Shakespeare
