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Ay me! for aught that ever I could read, could ever hear by tale or history, the course of true love never did run smooth.
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
Never
Hear
Love
Courses
Course
Read
Aught
History
Midsummer
Running
Tale
True
Smooth
Ever
Tales
More quotes by William Shakespeare
Madam, you have bereft me of all words, Only my blood speaks to you in my veins.
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Men have marble, women waxen, minds.
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Not proud you have, but thankful that you have. Proud can I never be of what I hate, but thankful even for hate that is meant love.
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These blessed candles of the night.
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To be in anger is impiety, but who is man that is not angry?
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Covering discretion with a coat of folly.
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Friendship is full of dregs.
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Make me a willow cabin at your gate, And call upon my soul within the house Write loyal cantons of contemned love And sing them loud even in the dead of night.
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Give me that man that is not passion's slave, and I will wear him in my heart's core, in my heart of heart, as I do thee.
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For to define true madness, What is't but to be nothing else but mad?
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But virtue never will be mov'd, Though lewdness court it in a shape of heaven.
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The lunatic, the lover, and the poet, are of imagination all compact.
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Nothing comes amiss, so money comes withal.
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I always thought it was both impious and unnatural that such immanity and bloody strife should reign among professors of one faith.
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Lawyers Are: Perilous mouths.
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Silence is the perfectest herault of joy. I were but little happy if I could say how much.
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Thus conscience does make cowards of us all And thus the native hue of resolution Is slicked o'er with the pale cast of thought
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Beauty is but a vain and doubtful good a shining gloss that fadeth suddenly a flower that dies when it begins to bud a doubtful good, a gloss, a glass, a flower, lost, faded, broken, dead within an hour.
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Methought I heard a voice cry 'Sleep no more! Macbeth does murder sleep', the innocent sleep, Sleep that knits up the ravell'd sleeve of care, The death of each day's life, sore labour's bath, Balm of hurt minds, great nature's second course, Chief nourisher in life's feast...
William Shakespeare
As you are old and reverend, you should be wise.
William Shakespeare
