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Benvolio: What sadness lengthens Romeo's hours? Romeo: Not having that, which, having, makes them short.
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
Romeo
Sadness
Short
Hours
Makes
Love
More quotes by William Shakespeare
I know them, yea, And what they weigh, even to the utmost scruple Scambling, out-facing, fashion-mong'ring boys, That lie, and cog, and flout, deprave, and slander, Go antickly, and show outward hideousness, And speak off half a dozen dangerous words, How they might hurt their enemies, if they durst And this is all.
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The sun with one eye vieweth all the world.
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He that commends me to mine own content Commends me to the thing I cannot get.
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Now is the winter of our discontent.
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Use every man after his desert, and who should scape whipping?
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So shalt thou feed on Death, that feeds on men.
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Are you up to your destiny?
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When I have plucked the rose, I cannot give it vital growth again, It needs must wither. I'll smell it on the tree.
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Chewing the food of sweet and bitter fancy.
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The web of our life is of a mingled yarn, good and ill together: our virtues would be proud if our faults whipped them not and our crimes would despair if they were not cherished by our own virtues.
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Love asks me no questions, and gives me endless support.
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Love will not be spurred to what it loathes
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I am not in the giving vein today.
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Coal-black is better than another hue In that it scorns to bear another hue For all the water in the ocean Can never turn the swan's black legs to white, Although she lave them hourly in the flood.
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O England! Model to thy inward greatness, like little body with a might heart.
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For it falls out That what we have we prize not to the worth Whiles we enjoy it, but being lacked and lost, Why, then we rack the value, then we find The virtue that possession would not show us While it was ours.
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There is no terror, Cassius, in your threats, For I am armed so strong in honesty That they pass by me as the idle wind
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Travelers never did lie, though fools at home condemn them.
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An habitation giddy and unsure Hath he that buildeth on the vulgar heart.
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I can express no kinder sign of love, than this kind kiss.
William Shakespeare
