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My affection hath an unknown bottom, like the Bay of Portugal.
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
Hath
Unknown
Affection
Bottom
Like
Portugal
More quotes by William Shakespeare
Come not between the dragon and his wrath.
William Shakespeare
Though I look old, yet I am strong and lusty for in my youth I never did apply hot and rebellious liquors in my blood and did not, with unbashful forehead, woo the means of weakness and debility: therefore my age is as a lusty winter, frosty but kindly.
William Shakespeare
Commit the oldest sins the newest kind of ways.
William Shakespeare
But yet I'll make assurance double sure, and take a bond of fate: thou shalt not live.
William Shakespeare
Preferment goes by letter and affection, And not by old gradation, where each second Stood heir to th's first.
William Shakespeare
I profess not talking: only this, Let each man do his best.
William Shakespeare
So holy and so perfect is my love, And I in such a poverty of grace, That I shall think it a most plenteous crop To glean the broken ears after the man That the main harvest reaps.
William Shakespeare
RUMOUR: Upon my tongues continual slanders ride, The which in every language I pronounce, Stuffing the ears of men with false reports.
William Shakespeare
Heaven - the treasury of everlasting life.
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Your date is better in your pie and your porridge than in your cheek.
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Love is my sin, and thy dear virtue hate, Hate of my sin, grounded on sinful loving.
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We must take the current when it serves, or lose our ventures.
William Shakespeare
But she makes hungry Where she most satisfies.
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O good old man, how well in thee appears The constant service of the antique world, When service sweat for duty, not for meed! Thou art not for the fashion of these times, Where none will sweat but for promotion, And having that do choke their service up Even with the having. . . .
William Shakespeare
When daffodils begin to peer, With heigh! the doxy, over the dale, Why, then comes in the sweet o' the year For the red blood reigns in the winter's pale. The white sheet bleaching on the hedge, With heigh! the sweet birds, O, how they sing! Doth set my pugging tooth on edge For a quart of ale is a dish for a king.
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Tell me where is fancy bred, Or in the heart, or in the head?
William Shakespeare
The clock upbraids me with the waste of time.
William Shakespeare
Thus sometimes hath the brightest day a cloud And after summer evermore succeeds Barren winter, with his wrathful nipping cold: So cares and joys abound, as seasons fleet.
William Shakespeare
We bring forth weeds when our quick minds lie still.
William Shakespeare
Gnarling sorrow hath less power to bite The man that mocks at it and sets it light.
William Shakespeare
