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Keep time! How sour sweet music is when time is broke and no proportion kept! So is it in the music of men's lives. I wasted time and now doth time waste me.
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
Men
Proportion
Time
Broke
Kept
Waste
Sweet
Lives
Sour
Keep
Doth
Music
Wasted
More quotes by William Shakespeare
Do not swear by the moon, for she changes constantly. Then your love would also change.
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Who is it that can tell me who I am?
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And Caesar shall go forth.
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To have seen much and to have nothing is to have rich eyes and poor hands.
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My heart is ever at your service.
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How easy it is for the proper-false in woman's waxen hearts to set their forms!
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Too much of water hast thou, poor Ophelia, And therefore I forbid my tears: But yet It is our trick nature her custom holds, Let shame say what it will: when these are gone, The woman will be out. — Adieu, my lord! I have a speech of fire, that fain would blaze, But that this folly drowns it.
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Thus hath the candle sing'd the moth. O these deliberate fools!
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Out, you tallow-face! You baggage!
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He says, he loves my daughter I think so too for never gaz'd the moon Upon the water, as he'll stand and read, As 'twere, my daughter's eyes: and, to be plain, I think, there is not half a kiss to choose, Who loves another best.
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And, if you love me, as I think you do, let's kiss and part, for we have much to do
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So may he rest, his faults lie gently on him!
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I am thy father's spirit Doom'd for a certain term to walk the night And, for the day, confin'd to fast in fires, Till the foul crimes, done in my days of nature, Are burnt and purg'd away.
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He was ever precise in promise-keeping.
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There is thy gold, worse poison to men's souls, Doing more murder in this loathsome world, Than these poor compounds that thou mayst not sell.
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Men are April when they woo, December when they wed.
William Shakespeare
Bow, stubborn knees, and, heart with strings of steel, Be soft as sinews of the new-born babe. All many be well.
William Shakespeare
Nothing can come of nothing.
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A good man's fortune may grow out at heels.
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Wise men never sit and wail their loss, but cheerily seek how to redress their harms.
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