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Now is the winter of our discontent Made glorious summer by this sun of York And all the clouds that lour'd upon our house In the deep bosom of the ocean buried.
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
House
Clouds
Made
Winter
Summer
Ocean
Bosom
Sun
Bosoms
York
Discontent
Deep
Buried
Upon
Glorious
More quotes by William Shakespeare
When clouds are seen wise men put on their cloaks When great leaves fall then winter is at hand.
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Our fancies are more giddy and unfirm, more longing, wavering, sooner lost and won, than women's are.
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Love is heavy and light, bright and dark, hot and cold, sick and healthy, asleep and awake- its everything except what it is! (Act 1, scene 1)
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Set your heart at rest. The fairyland buys not the child of me.
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Good Hamlet, cast thy nighted colour off ... Do not for ever with thy vailed lids Seek for thy noble father in the dust.
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Every inordinate cup is unbless'd, and the ingredient is a devil.
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Unsubstantial Death is amorous.
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the time of life is short To spend that shortness basely were too long.
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The little dogs and all, Tray, Blanch, and Sweetheart-see, they bark at me.
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No particular scandal one can touch but it confounds the breather.
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Mechanic slaves With greasy aprons, rules, and hammers, shall Uplift us to the view.
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Sorrow breaks seasons and reposing hours, Makes the night morning, and the noontide night.
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Make the doors upon a woman's wit, and it will out at the casement shut that, and 'twill out at the key-hole stop that, 'twill fly with the smoke out at the chimney.
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Thou art an elm, my husband, I a vine.
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Pastime passing excellent, if it he husbanded with modesty.
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All the contagion of the south light on you, You shames of Rome! you herd of--boils and plagues Plaster you o'er that you may be abhorr'd Further than seen, and one infect another Against the wind a mile!
William Shakespeare
Being of no power to make his wishes good: His promises fly so beyond his state That what he speaks is all in debt he owes For every word.
William Shakespeare
A good old man, sir. He will be talking. As they say, when the age is in, the wit is out.
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There's not the smallest orb which thou behold'st But in his motion like an angel sings.
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Think, when we talk of horses, that you see them Printing their proud hoofs i' the receiving earth.
William Shakespeare
