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O, speak again, bright angel! for thou art As glorious to this night, being o'er my head As is a winged messenger of heaven
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
Art
Bright
Glorious
Thou
Angel
Head
Heaven
Winged
Speak
Messenger
Night
Messengers
More quotes by William Shakespeare
Let us our lives, our souls, Our debts, our careful wives, Our children, and our sins, lay on the King!
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The gates of monarchs Are arched so high that giants may jet through And keep their impious turbans on without Good morrow to the sun.
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Swear me, Kate, like a lady as thou art, A good mouth-filling oath.
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Though music oft hath such a charm to make bad good, and good provoke to harm.
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Men should be what they seem.
William Shakespeare
Weep not, sweet queen, for trickling tears are vain.
William Shakespeare
Me, poor man, my library Was dukedom large enough.
William Shakespeare
ROMEO There is thy gold, worse poison to men's souls, Doing more murders in this loathsome world, Than these poor compounds that thou mayst not sell. I sell thee poison thou hast sold me none. Farewell: buy food, and get thyself in flesh. Come, cordial and not poison, go with me To Juliet's grave for there must I use thee.
William Shakespeare
There is a kind of character in thy life, That to the observer doth thy history, fully unfold.
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More can I bear than you dare execute.
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What is light, if Sylvia be not seen? What is joy if Sylvia be not by?
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Society is no comfort, to one not sociable.
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Winter's not gone yet, if the wild geese fly that way.
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What's brave, what's noble, let's do it after the Roman fashion.
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Though authority be a stubborn bear, yet he is oft let by the nose with gold.
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Who is it can read a woman?
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Against self-slaughter There is a prohibition so divine That cravens my weak hand.
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Free from gross passion or of mirth or anger
William Shakespeare
O, spirit of love, how quick and fresh art thou!
William Shakespeare
We know what we are, but know not what we may be.
William Shakespeare
