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Oh why rebuke you him that loves you so? / Lay breath so bitter on your bitter foe.
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
Breaths
Bitter
Lays
Loves
Rebuke
Foe
Breath
More quotes by William Shakespeare
Behold the threaden sails, Borne with the invisible and creeping wind, Draw the huge bottoms through the furrow'd sea, Breasting the lofty surge
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Making night hideous.
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The devil can cite Scripture for his purpose.
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Now no way can I stray Save back to England, all the world's my way.
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I can easier teach twenty what were good to be done, than be one of the twenty to follow mine own teaching.
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In nature's infinite book of secrecy A little I can read.
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You have but mistook me all the while... I live by bread like you, taste grief, feel want, need friends. Conditioned thus how can you call me king?
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A man may see how this world goes with no eyes. Look with thine ears: see how yond justice rails upon yon simple thief. Hark, in thine ear: change places and, handy-dandy, which is the justice, which is the thief?
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There's rosemary and rue. These keep Seeming and savor all the winter long. Grace and remembrance be to you.
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Suspicion shall be all stuck full of eyes.
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The thorny point Of bare distress hath ta'en from me the show Of smooth civility yet am I inland bred And know some nurture.
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How ill white hairs become a fool and jester!
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To be once in doubt Is once to be resolved.
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Let me tell you, Cassius, you yourself are much condemned to have an itching palm.
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Awake, dear heart, awake. Thou hast slept well. Awake.
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Thou hast most traitorously corrupted the youth of the realm in erecting a grammar school.
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Tis in ourselves that we are thus or thus. Our bodies are our gardens to the which our wills are gardeners.
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I do I know not what, and fear to find Mine eye too great a flatterer for my mind. Fate, show thy force. Ourselves we do not owe. What is decreed must be and be this so.
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They are in the very wrath of love, and they will go together. Clubs cannot part them
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Sorrow breaks seasons and reposing hours, Makes the night morning, and the noontide night.
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