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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!
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
Follow
Breach
Game
Harry
Stand
Slips
Games
Charge
Start
George
Upon
Saint
Greyhounds
Spirit
Cry
Afoot
Like
England
Straining
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If the masses can love without knowing why, they also hate without much foundation.
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What is a man, if his chief good and market of his time be but to sleep and feed? a beast, no more.
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Ambition, the soldier's virtue.
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Some report a sea-maid spawn'd him some that he was begot between two stock-fishes. But it is certain that when he makes water his urine is congealed ice.
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O, wonder! How many goodly creatures are there here! How beauteous mankind is! O brave new world, That has such people in't!
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The lady doth protest too much, methinks.
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Men should be what they seem Or those that be not, would they might seem none!.
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If money go before, all ways do lie open.
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Let me have men about me that are fat... Yond Cassius has a lean and hungry look. He thinks too much: such men are dangerous.
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The course of true love never did run smooth.
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This bud of love, by summer's ripening breath, May prove a beauteous flower when next we meet
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God is our fortress, in whose conquering name Let us resolve to scale their flinty bulwarks.
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All things that we ordained festival Turn from their office to black funeral-- Our instruments to melancholy bells, Our wedding cheer to a sad burial feast Our solemn hymns to sullen dirges change Our bridal flowers serve for a buried corse And all things change them to the contrary.
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A politician... one that would circumvent God.
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No man's pie is freed From his ambitious finger.
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One man in his time plays many parts.
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Love for thy love , and hand for hand I give.
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He that commends me to mine own content Commends me to the thing I cannot get. I to the world am like a drop of water That in the ocean seeks another drop, Who, falling there to find his fellow forth, Unseen, inquisitive, confounds himself: So I, to find a mother and a brother, In quest of them, unhappy, lose myself.
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It is a sin to be a mocker.
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The worm is not to be trusted.
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