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Tis an ill cook that cannot lick his own fingers.
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
Cooks
Ill
Entrepreneur
Cooking
Fingers
Lick
Food
Businessman
Cannot
Culinary
Cook
More quotes by William Shakespeare
This rudeness is a sauce to his good wit, Which gives men stomach to digest his words With better appetite.
William Shakespeare
Care is no cure, but rather corrosive, For things that are not to be remedied.
William Shakespeare
They do not love that do not show their love. The course of true love never did run smooth. Love is a familiar. Love is a devil. There is no evil angel but Love.
William Shakespeare
The elephant hath joints, but none for courtesy his legs are legs for necessity, not for flexure.
William Shakespeare
Heaven truly knows that thou art false as hell.
William Shakespeare
Enjoy the honey-heavy dew of slumber.
William Shakespeare
We bring forth weeds when our quick minds lie still.
William Shakespeare
Your praises will become your wages.
William Shakespeare
I can call spirits from the vasty deep.
William Shakespeare
A breath thou art, Servile to all the skyey influences.
William Shakespeare
Here comes a pair of very strange beasts, which in all tongues are called fools.
William Shakespeare
Few things loves better Than to abhor himself.
William Shakespeare
The thorny point Of bare distress hath ta'en from me the show Of smooth civility yet am I inland bred And know some nurture.
William Shakespeare
More fools know Jack Fool than Jack Fool knows.
William Shakespeare
I pardon him, as God shall pardon me.
William Shakespeare
The evil that men do lives after them the good is oft interred with their bones.
William Shakespeare
Murder most foul, as in the best it it But this most foul, strange, and unnatural.
William Shakespeare
A golden mind stoops not to shows of dross.
William Shakespeare
He jests at scars that never felt a wound.
William Shakespeare
O, how I faint when I of you do write, Knowing a better spirit doth use your name, And in the praise thereof spends all his might To make me tongue-tied speaking of your fame.
William Shakespeare
