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O, she's warm! If this be magic, let it be an art Lawful as eating.
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
Lawful
Warm
Eating
Magic
Art
Love
More quotes by William Shakespeare
Bounty, being free itself, thinks all others so.
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Beware the leader who bangs the drums of war in order to whip the citizenry into a patriotic fervor.
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Before thee stands this fair Hesperides, With golden fruit, but dangerous to be touched For death-like dragons here affright thee hard.
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The fool multitude, that choose by show, not learning more than the fond eye doth teach.
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Demetrius: Villain, what hast thou done? Aaron: That which thou canst not undo. Chiron: Thou hast undone our mother. Aaron: Villain, I have done thy mother.
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A woman impudent and mannish grown Is not more loath'd than an effeminate man.
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I am one, my liege, Whom the vile blows and buffets of the world Have so incensed that I am reckless what I do to spite the world.
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And oftentimes excusing of a fault doth make the fault the worse by the excuse.
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To be in love, where scorn is bought with groans coy looks, with heart-sore sighs one fading moment's mirth
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Love moderately. Long love doth so. Too swift arrives as tardy as too slow. *Love each other in moderation. That is the key to long-lasting love. Too fast is as bad as too slow.*
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Maids want nothing but husbands, and when they have them, they want everything.
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This is his uncle's teaching, this Worcester, Malevolent to you In all aspects, Which makes him prune himself and bristle up The crest of youth against your dignity.
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God grant us patience!
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Put forth thy hand, reach at the glorious gold.
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Conceit in weakest bodies works the strongest.
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Sweet recreation barred, what doth ensue but moody and dull melancholy, kinsman to grim and comfortless despair.
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O me, you juggler, you canker-blossom, you thief of love!
William Shakespeare
The let-alone lies not in your good will.
William Shakespeare
Honour travels in a strait so narrow Where one but goes abreast.
William Shakespeare
Thanks to men Of noble minds, is honorable meed.
William Shakespeare
