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There is thy gold, worse poison to men's souls, Doing more murder in this loathsome world, Than these poor compounds that thou mayst not sell.
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
Poor
Poison
Soul
Sell
Men
Sells
World
Murder
Mayst
Souls
Loathsome
Thou
Bribery
Worse
Bribe
Gold
Compounds
More quotes by William Shakespeare
I do not hate a proud man, as I do hate the engendering of toads.
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No villainous bounty yet hath passed my heart Unwisely, not ignobly, have I given.
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Gold were as good as twenty orators.
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Would I were in an alehouse in London.
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Sweet are the uses of adversity
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Now old desire doth in his deathbed lie, And young affection gapes to be his heir That fair for which love groan'd for and would die, With tender Juliet match'd, is now not fair.
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They have been at a great feast of languages, and stolen the scraps.
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While we lie tumbling in the hay.
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Nay, I am the very pink of courtesy.
William Shakespeare
Death, as the Psalmist saith, is certain to all, all shall die.
William Shakespeare
There's not a note of mine that's worth the noting.
William Shakespeare
Where is your ancient courage? You were used to say extremities was the trier of spirits That common chances common men could bear That when the sea was calm all boats alike showed mastership in floating.
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Some men there are love not a gaping pig, some that are mad if they behold a cat, and others when the bagpipe sings I the nose cannot contain their urine.
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A fellow by the hand of nature mark'd, Quoted, and sign'd, to do a deed of shame.
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Blind is his love, and best befits the dark.
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Very good orators, when they are out, they will spit and for lovers, lacking--God warn us!--matter, the cleanliest shift is to kiss.
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Still it cried ‘Sleep no more!’ to all the house: ‘Glamis hath murder’d sleep, and therefore Cawdor shall sleep no more,—Macbeth shall sleep no more!
William Shakespeare
How much more doth beauty beauteous seem by that sweet ornament which truth doth give!
William Shakespeare
Now all the youth of England are on fire, And silken dalliance in the wardrobe lies Now thrive the armorers, and honor's thought Reigns solely in the breast of every man.
William Shakespeare
To me, fair friend, you never can be old, For as you were when first your eye I ey'd, Such seems your beauty still.
William Shakespeare
