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Thou frothy tickle-brained hedge-pig!
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
Frothy
Brained
Tickle
Hedge
Pigs
Thou
More quotes by William Shakespeare
What infinite heart's-ease Must kings neglect that private men enjoy! And what have kings that privates have not too, Save ceremony, save general ceremony?
William Shakespeare
A stirring dwarf we do allowance give Before a sleeping giant.
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When a father gives to his son, both laugh when a son gives to his father, both cry.
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The poorest service is repaid with thanks.
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Our thoughts are ours, their ends none of our own
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Vanity keeps persons in favor with themselves who are out of favor with all others.
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There's not the smallest orb which thou behold'st But in his motion like an angel sings.
William Shakespeare
He was met even now As mad as the vex'd sea singing aloud Crown'd with rank fumiter and furrow-weeds, With bur-docks, hemlock, nettles, cuckoo-flowers, Darnel, and all the idle weeds that grow In our sustaining corn.
William Shakespeare
Our peace shall stand as firm as rocky mountains.
William Shakespeare
'Tis not enough to help the feeble up, but to support them after.
William Shakespeare
Speak the speech, I pray you, as I pronounc'd it to you, trippingly on the tongue.
William Shakespeare
France is a dog-hole, and it no more merits the tread of a man's foot.
William Shakespeare
Where hateful Death put on his ugliest mask.
William Shakespeare
For my part, I may speak it to my shame, I have a truant been to chivalry And so I hear he doth account me too.
William Shakespeare
'Tis the soldier's life to have their balmy slumbers waked with strife.
William Shakespeare
Did he so often lodge in open field, In winter's cold and summer's parching heat, To conquer France, his true inheritance?
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Ay, is it not a language I speak?
William Shakespeare
Sweet Beatrice, wouldst thou come when I called thee? BEATRICE Yea, signior, and depart when you bid me. BENEDICK O, stay but till then! BEATRICE 'Then' is spoken fare you well now... (Much Ado About Nothing)
William Shakespeare
Prepare for mirth, for mirth becomes a feast.
William Shakespeare
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.
William Shakespeare
