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Is love a tender thing? It is too rough, too rude, too boisterous, and it pricks like thorn.
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
Love
Pricks
Like
Boisterous
Thorn
Juliet
Tender
Rude
Rough
Thing
More quotes by William Shakespeare
That which I would discover The law of friendship bids me to conceal.
William Shakespeare
Daffodils, That come before the swallow dares, and take The winds of March with beauty.
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I myself am best When least in company.
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Present mirth hath present laughter. What's to come is still unsure.
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Why, what's the matter, That you have such a February face, So full of frost, of storm and cloudiness?
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Go to you bosom: Knock there, and ask your heart what it doth know.
William Shakespeare
Hath Romeo slain himself? Say thou but ay, And that bare vowel ay shall poison more Than the death-darting eye of cockatrice. I am not I,if there be such an ay, Or those eyes shut,that make thee answer ay: If he be slain say ay,or if not,no: Brief sounds,determine of my weal or woe.
William Shakespeare
In delay there lies no plenty.
William Shakespeare
This fell sergeant, Death, Is strict in his arrest.
William Shakespeare
The Foole doth thinke he is wise, but the wiseman knowes himselfe to be a Foole.
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Thou shalt be both the plaintiff and the judge of thine own cause.
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If I could write the beauty of your eyes And in fresh numbers number all your graces, The age to come would say, 'This poet lies Such heavenly touches ne'er touch'd earthly faces.'
William Shakespeare
False face must hide what the false heart doth know.
William Shakespeare
I would with such perfection govern, sir, T'excel the golden age.
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Thou art all the comfort, The Gods will diet me with.
William Shakespeare
You draw me, you hard-hearted adamant But yet you draw not iron, for my heart Is true as steel: leave you your power to draw, And I shall have no power to follow you.
William Shakespeare
O, let my books be then the eloquence And dumb presagers of my speaking breast, Who plead for love, and look for recompense, More than that tongue that more hath more expressed.
William Shakespeare
And thus I clothe my naked villainy With odd old ends stol'n out of holy writ And seem a saint, when most I play the devil.
William Shakespeare
All the world's a stage, and all the men and women merely players: they have their exits and their entrances and one man in his time plays many parts, his acts being seven ages.
William Shakespeare
O' thinkest thou we shall ever meet again? I doubt it not and all these woes shall serve For sweet discourses in our times to come.
William Shakespeare
