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To mourn a mischief that is past and gone Is the next way to draw new mischief on.
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
Past
Way
Mischief
Mourn
Draw
Draws
Gone
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More quotes by William Shakespeare
ROMEO to BALTHASAR But if thou, jealous, dost return to pry In what I further shall intend to do, By heaven, I will tear thee joint by joint And strew this hungry churchyard with thy limbs: The time and my intents are savage-wild, More fierce and more inexorable far Than empty tigers or the roaring sea.
William Shakespeare
The setting sun, and the music at the close, As the last taste of sweets, is sweetest last, Writ in rememberance more than long things past.
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Short time seems long in sorrow's sharp sustaining.
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The wounds invisible that Love's keen arrows make.
William Shakespeare
My love is strengthen'd, though more weak in seeming I love not less, though less the show appear: That love is merchandised whose rich esteeming The owner's tongue doth publish every where.
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One sin another doth provoke.
William Shakespeare
Upon his royal face there is no note how dread an army hath enrounded him.
William Shakespeare
Words are grown so false, I am loath to prove reason with them.
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Something is rotten in the state of Denmark.
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Why should honor outlive honestly? Orthello
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Farewell the tranquil mind! farewell content! Farewell the plumed troops, and the big wars That make ambition virtue.
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For there was never yet philosoper That could endure the toothache patiently, However they have writ the style of gods, And made a push at chance and sufferance.
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Let there be gall enough in thy ink, though thou write with a goose-pen, no matter.
William Shakespeare
Look, how this ring encompasseth thy finger, Even so thy breast encloseth my poor heart Wear both of them, for both of them are thine.
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The art of our necessities is strange That can make vile things precious.
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Rich honesty dwells like a miser, Sir, in a poor house as your pearl in your foul oyster.
William Shakespeare
Now, by the world, it is a lusty wench I love her ten times more than e'er I did: O, how I long to have some chat with her!
William Shakespeare
Tis a happy thing To be the father unto many sons.
William Shakespeare
Then will I raise aloft the milk-white rose. For whose sweet smell the air shall be perfumed.
William Shakespeare
Till all grace be in one woman, one woman shall not come in my grace.
William Shakespeare