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For what good turn? Messenger: For the best turn of the bed.
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
Bed
Turn
Turns
Best
Good
Messenger
Messengers
More quotes by William Shakespeare
What sadness lengthens Romeo’s hours?
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What stronger breastplate than a heart untainted! Thrice is he arm'd, that hath his quarrel just.
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What is a man, if his chief good and market of his time be but to sleep and feed? a beast, no more. Sure he that made us with such large discourse, looking before and after, gave us not that capability and god-like reason to fust in us unused.
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Would I were dead, if God's good will were so, For what is in this world but grief and woe?
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Still constant is a wondrous excellence.
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Listen to many, speak to a few.
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Get thee a good husband, and use him as he uses thee.
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Best men oft are moulded out of faults.
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There is plenty of time to sleep in the grave
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The empty vessel makes the loudest sound.
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I'll have no husband, if you be not he.
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Greatest scandal waits on greatest state.
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The barge she sat in, like a burnish'd throne, Burnt on the water.
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And writers say, as the most forward bud Is eaten by the canker ere it blow, Even so by love the young and tender wit Is turn'd to folly, blasting in the bud, Losing his verdure even in the prime, And all the fair effects of future hopes.
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wert thou as far As that vast shore washed with the farthest sea, I would adventure for such merchandise.
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But fish not with this melancholy bait For this fool gudgeon, this opinion.
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It were a grief so brief to part with thee. Farewell.
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Thus hath the candle sing'd the moth. O these deliberate fools!
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I know them, yea, And what they weigh, even to the utmost scruple Scambling, out-facing, fashion-mong'ring boys, That lie, and cog, and flout, deprave, and slander, Go antickly, and show outward hideousness, And speak off half a dozen dangerous words, How they might hurt their enemies, if they durst And this is all.
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The southern wind Doth play the trumpet to his purposes And, by his hollow whistling in the leaves, Foretells a tempest and a blustering day.
William Shakespeare
