Share
×
Inspirational Quotes
Authors
Professions
Topics
Tags
Quote
For this relief much thanks. 'Tis bitter cold, and I am sick at heart.
William Shakespeare
Share
Change background
T
T
T
Change font
Original
TAGS & TOPICS
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
Heart
Much
Relief
Bitter
Thanks
Sick
Cold
More quotes by William Shakespeare
Thou hast seen a farmer's dog bark at a beggar? And the creature run from the cur. There thou mightst behold the great image of authority-a dog's obeyed in office.
William Shakespeare
This is a way to kill a wife with kindness.
William Shakespeare
Ah, what a sign it is of evil life, Where death's approach is seen so terrible!
William Shakespeare
Sleep, that sometimes shuts up sorrow's eye.
William Shakespeare
Captain of our fairy band, Helena is here at hand, And the youth, mistook by me, Pleading for a lover's fee. Shall we their fond pageant see? Lord, what fools these mortals be!
William Shakespeare
I must have liberty Withal, as large a charter as the wind, To blow on whom I please, for so fools have.
William Shakespeare
Plenty and peace breed cowards hardness ever of hardiness is mother.
William Shakespeare
Is it possible that love should of a sudden take such a hold?
William Shakespeare
All lovers swear more performance than they are able, and yet reserve an ability that they never perform vowing more than the perfection of ten, and discharging less than the tenth part of one.
William Shakespeare
For what good turn? Messenger: For the best turn of the bed.
William Shakespeare
The sudden hand of Death close up mine eye!
William Shakespeare
I heard a bird so sing, Whose music, to my thinking, pleased the king.
William Shakespeare
Too much to know is to know nought but fame And every godfather can give a name.
William Shakespeare
And will he not come again? And will he not come again? No, no, he is dead. Go to thy deathbed. He never will come again.
William Shakespeare
You Jig, you amble, and you lisp.
William Shakespeare
Grim-visaged war hath smoothed his wrinkled front And now, instead of mounting barbed steeds To fright the souls of fearful adversaries, He capers nimbly in a lady's chamber To the lascivious pleasing of a lute.
William Shakespeare
Great men may jest with saints 'tis wit in them But, in the less foul profanation.
William Shakespeare
Make less thy body hence, and more thy grace. Leave gormandizing.
William Shakespeare
I had rather live with cheese and garlic in a windmill.
William Shakespeare
Thus weary of the world, away she hies, And yokes her silver doves by whose swift aid Their mistress mounted through the empty skies In her light chariot quickly is convey'd Holding their course to Paphos, where their queen Means to immure herself and not be seen.
William Shakespeare
