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Sigh no more ladies, sigh no more, men were deceivers ever
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
Sigh
Ladies
Ever
Men
Deceivers
Blithe
Inconstancy
Deceiver
More quotes by William Shakespeare
We have seen better days.
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I am not bound to please thee with my answer.
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No, no 'tis all men's office to speak patience To those that wring under the load of sorrow, But no man's virtue nor sufficiency To be so moral when he shall endure The like himself. Therefore give me no counsel: My griefs cry louder than advertisement.
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Out, damned spot! Out, I say!
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If there were reason for these miseries, then into limits could I bind my woes. If the winds rages, doth not the sea wax mad, threat'ning the welkin with its big-swoll'n face? And wilt though have a reason for this coil? I am the sea. Hark how her sighs doth blow. She is the weeping welkin, I the earth.
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Let's go hand in hand, not one before another.
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Thus have I, Wall, my part discharged so And, being done, thus Wall away doth go.
William Shakespeare
The devil can cite Scripture for his purpose.
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My grief lies all within, And these external manners of lament Are merely shadows to the unseen grief That swells with silence in the tortured soul.
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A golden mind stoops not to shows of dross.
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The cheek Is apter than the tongue to tell an errand.
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I will go wash And when my face is fair, you shall perceive Whether I blush or no.
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Let me, if not by birth, have lands by wit All with me's meet that I can fashion fit.
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If you prick us do we not bleed? If you tickle us do we not laugh? If you poison us do we not die? And if you wrong us shall we not revenge?
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That thou art blamed shall not be thy defect, For slander's mark was ever yet the fair The ornament of beauty is suspect, A crow that flies in heaven's sweetest air.
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He is white-livered and red-faced.
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Things won are done, joy's soul lies in the doing.
William Shakespeare
Yet nor the lays of birds nor the sweet smell Of different flowers in odour and in hue Could make me any summer's story tell, Or from their proud lap pluck them where they grew Nor did I wonder at the lily's white, Nor praise the deep vermilion in the rose They were but sweet, but figures of delight, Drawn after you, you pattern of all those.
William Shakespeare
Holy, fair, and wise is she The heaven such grace did lend her, That she might admired be.
William Shakespeare
Bloody instructions, which, being taught, return to plague the inventor.
William Shakespeare
