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Glendower: I can call the spirits from the vasty deep. Hotspur: Why, so can I, or so can any man But will they come, when you do call for them?
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
Spirit
Come
Men
Hotspur
Apparitions
Spirits
Deep
Call
More quotes by William Shakespeare
Thy head is as full of quarrels as an egg is full of meat, and yet thy head hath been beaten as addle as an egg for quarrelling.
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Devils soonest tempt, resembling spirits of light.
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A stirring dwarf we do allowance give Before a sleeping giant.
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If ever (as that ever may be near) you meet in some fresh cheek the power of fancy, then shall you know the wounds invisible that love's keen, arrows make.
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I cannot draw a cart, nor eat dried oats If it be man's work, I'll do't.
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The present eye praises the present object.
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The art of our necessities is strange That can make vile things precious.
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I had rather chop this hand off at a blow, And with the other fling it at thy face.
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To be, or not to be, that is the question.
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I durst not laugh for fear of opening my lips and receiving the bad air.
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The will is infinite and the execution confin'd, the desire is boundless and the act a slave to limit.
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Company, villainous company, hath been the spoil of me.
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My chastity's the jewel of our house, bequeathed down from many ancestors.
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My tongue will tell the anger of my heart, or else my heart concealing it will break.
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Blest are those Whose blood and judgment are so well commingled, That they are not a pipe for fortune's finger To sound what stop she please.
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'Tis dangerous to take a cold, to sleep, to drink but I tell you, my lord fool, out of this nettle, danger, we pluck this flower, safety.
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And fearless minds climb soonest unto crowns.
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Why what a fool was I to this drunken monster for a God. - Caliban
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Thou art an elm, my husband, I a vine, Whose weakness, married to thy stronger state, Makes me with thy strength to communicate.
William Shakespeare
I hate ingratitude more in a man than lying, vainness, babbling, drunkenness, or any taint of vice whose strong corruption inhabits our frail blood.
William Shakespeare
