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The eye of man hath not heard, the ear of man hath not seen, man's hand is not able to taste, his tongue to conceive, nor his heart to report, what my dream was.
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
Dream
Tongue
Able
Ears
Heart
Taste
Midsummer
Men
Seen
Conceive
Hand
Halloween
Heard
Report
Eye
Hath
Hands
Reports
More quotes by William Shakespeare
Do you not know I am a woman? when I think, I must speak.
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My desolation does begin to make A better life.
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Ambition should be made of sterner stuff.
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With love's light wings did I o'er-perch these walls, for stony limits cannot hold love out
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You have her father's love, Demetrius Let me have Hermia's: do you marry him!
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Knit your hearts with an unslipping knot.
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If by chance I talk a little wild, forgive me I had it from my father.
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Love, which teacheth me that thou and I am one
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My love is as a fever, longing still.
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When the sea was calm all ships alike showed mastership in floating.
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He that is truly dedicated to war hath no self-love
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Time, whose millioned accidents creep in betwixt vows, and change decrees of kings, tan sacred beauty, blunt the sharpest intents, divert strong minds to the course of altering things.
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But the strong base and building of my love is as the very centre of the earth, drawing all things to it.
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Up and down, up and down I will lead them up and down I am feared in field in town Goblin, lead them up and down
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I love thee, and it is my love that speaks
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I see you stand like greyhounds in the slips, Straining upon the start. The game's afoot Follow your spirit: and upon this charge, Cry — God for Harry! England and Saint George!
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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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in black ink my love may still shine bright.
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It is the bright day that brings forth the adder, and that craves wary walking.
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The man that hath no music in himself, Nor is not moved with concord of sweet sounds, is fit for treasons, stratagems and spoils.
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