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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
Upon
Glorious
House
Clouds
Made
Winter
Summer
Ocean
Bosom
Sun
Bosoms
York
Discontent
Deep
Buried
More quotes by William Shakespeare
Let us our lives, our souls, Our debts, our careful wives, Our children, and our sins, lay on the King!
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The presence of a king engenders love Amongst his subjects, and his royal friends.
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For I can raise no money by vile means. By heaven, I had rather coin my heart, And drop my blood for drachmas
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To be now a sensible man, by and by a fool, and presently a beast!
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Honest plain words best pierce the ear of grief.
William Shakespeare
Come give us a taste of your quality.
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She speaks poniards, and every word stabs.
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The time of universal peace is near. Prove this a prosp'rous day, the three-nooked world Shall bear the olive freely.
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Adversity's sweet milk, philosophy.
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Love is merely a madness.
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Desperate times breed desperate measures
William Shakespeare
The trust I have is in mine innocence, and therefore am I bold and resolute.
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And either victory, or else a grave.
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Thank me no thankings, nor proud me no prouds.
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A wretched soul, bruised with adversity, We bid be quiet when we hear it cry But were we burdened with light weight of pain, As much or more we should ourselves complain.
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O madam, my old heart is cracked, it's cracked!
William Shakespeare
Antonio: Will you stay no longer? nor will you not that I go with you? Sebastian: By your patience, no. My stars shine darkly over me the malignancy of my fate might, perhaps, distemper yours therefore I shall crave of you your leave that I may bear my evils alone. It were a bad recompense for your love to lay any of them on you.
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The Thane of Cawdor lives, A prosperous gentleman and to be King Stands not within the prospect of belief, No more than to be Cawdor.
William Shakespeare
There is a kind of character in thy life, That to the observer doth thy history, fully unfold.
William Shakespeare
Titus Andronicus, my lord the Emperor Sends thee this word, that, if thou love thy sons, Let Marcus, Lucius, or thyself, old Titus, Or any one of you, chop off your hand And send it to the King: he for the same Will send thee hither both thy sons alive, And that shall be the ransom for their fault.
William Shakespeare
