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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
Warm
Eating
Magic
Art
Love
Lawful
More quotes by William Shakespeare
Love is a smoke rais'd with the fume of sighs being purg'd, a fire sparkling in lovers' eyes being vex'd, a sea nourish'd with lovers' tears what is it else? A madness most discreet, a choking gall, and a preserving sweet.
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In springtime, the only pretty ring time Birds sing, hey ding A-ding, a-ding Sweet lovers love the spring—
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Two loves I have, of comfort and despair, Which like two spirits do suggest me still: The better angel is a man right fair, The worser spirit a woman coloured ill.
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If you can look into the seeds of time, and say which grain will grow and which will not, speak then unto me.
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I can express no kinder sign of love, than this kind kiss.
William Shakespeare
The weary sun hath made a golden set And by the bright tract of his fiery car Gives token of a goodly day to-morrow.
William Shakespeare
There's little of the melancholy element in her, my lord: she is never sad but when she sleeps and not ever sad then for I have heard my daughter say, she hath often dreamt of unhappiness, and waked herself with laughing.
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And worse I may be yet: the worst is not So long as we can say 'This is the worst.
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Ay, but to die, and go we know not where.
William Shakespeare
Discuss unto me: art thou officer, Or art thou base, common, and popular?
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Why, what is pomp, rule, reign, but earth and dust? And, live we how we can, yet die we must.
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Affection faints not like a pale-faced coward, But then woos best when most his choice is froward.
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He is not great who is not greatly good.
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How soar sweet music is, when time is broke, and no proportion kept!
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A lion among ladies is a most dreadful thing.
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Now would I give a thousand furlongs of sea for an acre of barren ground.
William Shakespeare
I have shot mine arrow o'er the house And hurt my brother.
William Shakespeare
Kiss me, Kate, we shall be married o'Sunday
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A merry heart goes all the way, - A sad one tires inan hour.
William Shakespeare
As good luck would have it.
William Shakespeare