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How sweet the moonlight sleeps upon this bank Here we will sit, and let the sounds of music Creep in our ears soft stillness, and the night Become the touches of sweet harmony
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
Become
Sounds
Creep
Music
Harmony
Sleeps
Ears
Creeps
Sweet
Moonlight
Sleep
Touches
Upon
Stillness
Sound
Bank
Night
Soft
Orbs
More quotes by William Shakespeare
Here feel we but the penalty of Adam, The seasons' difference, as the icy fang And churlish chiding of the winter's wind, Which, when it bites and blows upon my body, Even till I shrink with cold, I smile.
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To move wild laughter in the throat of death? It cannot be it is impossible: Mirth cannot move a soul in agony.
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If thou couldst, doctor, cast The water of my land, find her disease, And purge it to a sound and pristine health, I would applaud thee to the very echo, That should applaud you again.
William Shakespeare
Ten masts make not the altitude Which thou hast perpendicularly fell. Thy life's a miracle.
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The eagle suffers little birds to sing.
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Grace and remembrance be to you both.
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Methinks you are my glass, and not my brother: I see by you I am a sweet-faced youth.
William Shakespeare
They are fairies he that speaks to them shall die. I'll wink and couch no man their works must eye.
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Present fears are less than horrible imaginings.
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Lords, knights and gentlemen, what I should say My tears gainsay for every word I speak, Ye see I drink the water of my eye.
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Out, out, brief candle! Life's but a walking shadow.
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The poorest service is repaid with thanks.
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For what is wedlock forced but a hell, An age of discord and continual strife? Whereas the contrary bringeth bliss, And is a pattern of celestial peace.
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Hardness ever of hardness is mother.
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Poor and content is rich, and rich enough.
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No place indeed should murder sanctuarize Revenge should have no bounds.
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Good name in man and woman, dear my lord, Is the immediate jewel of their souls: Who steals my purse steals trash ’tis something, nothing ’twas mine, ’tis his, and has been slave to thousands But he that filches from me my good name Robs me of that which not enriches him, And makes me poor indeed.
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In limited professions there's boundless theft.
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A breath thou art, Servile to all the skyey influences.
William Shakespeare
Full of wise saws and modern instances.
William Shakespeare
