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Were't not for laughing, I should pity him.
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
Pity
Laughing
More quotes by William Shakespeare
Shall I never see a bachelor of three score again?
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Be checked for silence, But never taxed for speech.
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For thy sweet love remember'd such wealth brings That then I scorn to change my state with kings.
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My father's wit, and my mother's tongue, assist me!
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The sweetest honey Is loathsome in his own deliciousness, And in the taste confounds the appetite: Therefore love moderately— long love doth so.
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For sweetest things turn sourest by their deeds Lillies that fester smell far worse than weeds.
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Who finds the heifer dead and bleeding fresh And sees fast-by a butcher with an axe, But will suspect 'twas he that made the slaughter?
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I am now of all humors that have showed themselves humors since the old days of goodman Adam to the pupil age of this present twelve o'clock at midnight.
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Comets importing change of times and states, Brandish your crystal tresses in the sky And with them scourge the bad revolting stars.
William Shakespeare
Make the upcoming hour overflow with joy, and let pleasure drown the brim.
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Death is a fearful thing.
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It is not night when I do see your face.
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I do beseech you- Though I perchance am vicious in my guess , that your wisdom yet From one that so imperfectly conjects Would take no notice, nor build yourself a trouble Out of his scattering and unsure observance.
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That god forbid, that made me first your slave, I should in thought control your times of pleasure, Or at your hand th' account of hours to crave, Being your vassal bound to stay your leisure.
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God has given you one face, and you make yourself another.
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She cannot love, nor take no shape nor project or affection, she is so self-endeared
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This is his uncle's teaching, this Worcester, Malevolent to you In all aspects, Which makes him prune himself and bristle up The crest of youth against your dignity.
William Shakespeare
I was a coward on instinct.
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Princes have but their titles for their glories, An outward honor for an inward toil And, for unfelt imaginations, They often feel a world of restless cares.
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I am wrapped in dismal thinking.
William Shakespeare
