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If [God] send me no husband, for the which blessing I am at him upon my knees every morning and evening.
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
Send
Evening
Blessing
Husband
Morning
Upon
Every
Knees
More quotes by William Shakespeare
I may neither choose who I would, nor refuse who I dislike so is the will of a living daughter curbed by the will of a dead father.
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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.
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I have seen better faces in my time Than stands on any shoulder that I see Before me at this instant.
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The will of man is by his reason sway'd.
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Come, and take choice of all my library, And so beguile thy sorrow.
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There's small choice in rotten apples.
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I was born free as Caesar so were you
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O heresy in fair, fit for these days, A giving hand, though foul, shall have fair praise.
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With this special observance, that you o'erstep not the modesty of nature. for anything so overdone is from the purpose of playing, whose end, both at the first and now, was and is, to hold, as 'twere, the mirror up to nature.
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Have not saints lips, and holy palmers too Ay, pilgrim, lips that they must use in prayer.
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Out of this nettle - danger - we pluck this flower - safety.
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Thrice is he arm'd that hath his quarrel just, And he but naked, though lock'd up in steel, Whose conscience with injustice is corrupted.
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A heavy heart bears not a nimble tongue.
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I can call spirits from the vasty deep.
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I am a feather for each wind that blows
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Light, seeking light, doth light of light beguile
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For now I stand as one upon a rock environed with a wilderness of sea, who marks the waxing tide grow wave by wave, expecting ever when some envious surge will in his brinish bowels swallow him.
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Thou call'st me dog before thou hadst a cause, But since I am a dog, beware my fangs.
William Shakespeare
. . . nothing in his life Became him like the leaving it he died As one that had been studied in his death To throw away the dearest thing he owed, As 'twere a careless trifle.
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Gently to hear, kindly to judge.
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