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Tis the times' plague, when madmen lead the blind.
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
Madmen
Plague
Blind
Lead
Times
More quotes by William Shakespeare
Since my dear soul was mistress of her choice And could of men distinguish her election, Sh'ath sealed thee for herself.
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Nor aught so good but strained from that fair use, Revolts from true birth stumbling on abuse.
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O madam, my old heart is cracked, it's cracked!
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Enough no more Tis not so sweet now as it was before.
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But say, my lord, it were not regist'red, Methinks the truth should live from age to age, As 'twere retailed to all posterity, Even to the general all-ending day.
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Lords, I protest my soul is full of woe That blood should sprinkle me to make me grow. Come, mourn with me for what I do lament, And put sullen black incontinent. I'll make a voyage to the Holy Land To wash this blood off from my guilty hand. March sadly after. Grace my mournings here In weeping after this untimely bier.
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Oh, that way madness lies let me shun that.
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If love be blind, it best agrees with night
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Good hay, sweet hay, hath no fellow.
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To sleep perchance to dream
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Art thou afeard To be the same in thine own act and valour As thou art in desire? Wouldst thou have that Which thou esteem'st the ornament of life, And live a coward in thine own esteem, Letting 'I dare not' wait upon 'I would,' Like the poor cat i' the adage?
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Why, I can smile and murder whiles I smile, And cry 'content' to that which grieves my heart, And wet my cheeks with artificial tears, And frame my face for all occasions
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My language! heavens!I am the best of them that speak this speech. Were I but where 'tis spoken.
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Away, you trifler! Love! I love thee not, I care not for thee, Kate: this is no world To play with mammets and to tilt with lips: We must have bloody noses and cracked crowns.
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Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?
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They do not love that do not show their love.
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After life's fitful fever he sleeps well. Treason has done his worst. Nor steel nor poison, malice domestic, foreign levy, nothing can touch him further.
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Be checked for silence, But never taxed for speech.
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Master, go on, and I will follow thee To the last gasp with truth and loyalty.
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But Kate, dost thou understand thus much English? Canst thou love me? Catherine: I cannot tell. Henry: Can any of your neighbours tell, Kate? I'll ask them.
William Shakespeare
