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Blood will have blood.
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
Blood
More quotes by William Shakespeare
The elephant hath joints, but none for courtesy his legs are legs for necessity, not for flexure.
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I scorn you, scurvy companion.
William Shakespeare
Men must endure Their going hence, even as their coming hither. Ripeness is all.
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Doubt thou the stars are fire Doubt that the sun doth move Doubt truth to be a liar But never doubt I love.
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So full of artless jealousy is guilt, It spills itself in fearing to be spilt.
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No visor does become black villainy so well as soft and tender flattery.
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'Twas merry when You wagered on your angling, when your diver Did hang a salt fish on his hook, which he With fervency drew up.
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For man is a giddy thing, and this is my conclusion.
William Shakespeare
Therefore, to be possess'd with double pomp, To guard a title that was rich before, To gild refined gold, to paint the lily, To throw a perfume on the violet, To smooth the ice, or add another hue Unto the rainbow, or with taper-light To seek the beauteous eye of heaven to garnish, Is wasteful and ridiculous excess.
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'Tis best to weigh the enemy more mighty than he seems.
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I desire you in friendship, and I will one way or other make you amends.
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Alas, that love, so gentle in his view, Should be so tyrannous and rough in proof! *It’s sad. Love looks like a nice thing, but it’s actually very rough when you experience it.*
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We cannot all be masters, nor all masters Cannot be truly followed.
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The old folk, time's doting chronicles.
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Open thy gate of mercy, gracious God, My soul flies through these wounds to seek out thee.
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Better three hours too soon than a minute too late.
William Shakespeare
Gnarling sorrow hath less power to bite The man that mocks at it and sets it light.
William Shakespeare
But whate'er I am, nor I nor any man that but man is, With nothing shall be pleased 'til he be eased With being nothing.
William Shakespeare
Brevity is the soul of wit.
William Shakespeare
My rage is gone, And I am struck with sorrow. Take him up. Help, three o' th' chiefest soldiers I'll be one. Beat thou the drum, that it speaks mournfully, Trail your steel spikes. Though in this city he Hath widowed and unchilded many a one, Which to this hour bewail the injury, Yet he shall have a noble memory. Assist.
William Shakespeare