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You cram these words into mine ears against The stomach of my sense.
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
Stomach
Ears
Mines
Mine
Words
Sense
Cram
Memorable
More quotes by William Shakespeare
Like madness, is the glory of this life.
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Each substance of a grief has twenty shadows.
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What, gone without a word? Ay, so true love should do it cannot speak, For truth hath better deeds than words to grace it.
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Tis the times' plague, when madmen lead the blind.
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What man art thou that, thus bescreened in night, So stumblest on my counsel? *Who are you? Why do you hide in the darkness and listen to my private thoughts?*
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...too much sadness hath congealed your blood,And melancholy is the nurse of frenzy.
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Being your slave what should I do but tend, Upon the hours, and times of your desire? I have no precious time at all to spend Nor services to do till you require.
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A kind Of excellent dumb discourse.
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You have too much respect upon the world They lose it that do buy it with much care
William Shakespeare
If reasons were as plentiful as blackberries, I would give no man a reason upon compulsion.
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Present fears are less than horrible imaginings.
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There is no love-broker in the world can more prevail in man's commendation with woman than report of valor.
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Their manners are more gentle, kind, than of Our human generation you shall find.
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I have of late--but wherefore I know not--lost all my mirth, forgone all custom of exercise.
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Tear-falling pity dwells not in this eye.
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Love is heavy and light, bright and dark, hot and cold, sick and healthy, asleep and awake- its everything except what it is! (Act 1, scene 1)
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I like this place and could willingly waste my time in it.
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Tremble, thou wretch, That hast within thee undivulged crimes Unwhipped of justice.
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All the contagion of the south light on you, You shames of Rome! you herd of--boils and plagues Plaster you o'er that you may be abhorr'd Further than seen, and one infect another Against the wind a mile!
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If I must die, I will encounter darkness as a bride, and hug it in mine arms.
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