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He hath not eat paper, as it were he hath not drunk ink his intellect is not replenished he is only an animal, only sensible in the duller parts. (Shakespeare, Love's Labor's Lost, IV)
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
Shakespeare
Animal
Hath
Lost
Sensible
Love
Drunk
Intellect
Parts
Replenished
Duller
Labor
Ink
Paper
More quotes by William Shakespeare
Behold the threaden sails, Borne with the invisible and creeping wind, Draw the huge bottoms through the furrow'd sea, Breasting the lofty surge
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So shaken as we are, so wan with care, Find we a time for frighted peace to pant And breathe short-winded accents of new broils To be commenced in stronds afar remote.
William Shakespeare
Minutes, hours, days, months, and years, Pass'd over to the end they were created, Would bring white hairs unto a quiet grave. Ah, what a life were this!
William Shakespeare
Greatness knows itself.
William Shakespeare
Defer no time, delays have dangerous ends.
William Shakespeare
Thou art a boil, a plague sore, an embossed carbuncle in my corrupted blood.
William Shakespeare
That's a valiant flea that dares eat his breakfast on the lip of a lion.
William Shakespeare
Set your heart at rest. The fairyland buys not the child of me.
William Shakespeare
Manhood is melted into courtesies, valor into compliment, and men are only turned into tongue, and trim ones, too.
William Shakespeare
The tyrant custom, most grave senators, Hath made the flinty and steel couch of war My thrice-driven bed of down.
William Shakespeare
There's rosemary, that's for remembrance. Pray you, love, remember.
William Shakespeare
Ay beauty's princely majesty is such, Confounds the tongue and makes the senses rough.
William Shakespeare
Wisely, and slow. They stumble that run fast.
William Shakespeare
For I am proverbed with a grandsire phrase.
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The native hue of resolution is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought and enterprises of great pitch and moment, With this regard, their currents turn awry, and lose the name of action.
William Shakespeare
Muster your wits stand in your own defence.
William Shakespeare
They have been at a great feast of languages, and stolen the scraps.
William Shakespeare
Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May.
William Shakespeare
Should the poor be flattered? No let the candied tongue lick absurd pomp, and crook the pregnant hinges of the knee where thrift may follow fawning.
William Shakespeare
Melancholy is the nurse of frenzy.
William Shakespeare
