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JAQUES: Rosalind is your love's name? ORLANDO: Yes, just. JAQUES: I do not like her name. ORLANDO: There was no thought of pleasing you when she was christened.
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
Love
Like
Rosalind
Christened
Orlando
Pleasing
Name
Names
Thought
More quotes by William Shakespeare
O, what a world of vile ill-favored faults, looks handsome in three hundred pounds a year!
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The bitter past, more welcome is the sweet.
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Good counselors lack no clients.
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Nature her custom holds, Let shame say what it will.
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All the world is a stage and we are merely players.
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We have seen better days.
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Men should be what they seem.
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Women are as roses, whose fair flower, being once displayed, doth fall that very hour.
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Tongues I'll hang on every tree That shall civil sayings show. . . .
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Winter's not gone yet, if the wild geese fly that way.
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Two lovely berries moulded on one stem So, with two seeming bodies, but one heart.
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But she makes hungry Where she most satisfies.
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Nature hath framed strange fellows in her time.
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He's truly valiant that can wisely suffer The worst that man can breathe, and make his wrongs His outsides, to wear them like his raiment, carelessly, And ne'er prefer his injuries to his heart, To bring it into danger.
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Why what a fool was I to this drunken monster for a God. - Caliban
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The Play's the Thing, wherein I'll catch the conscience of the King.
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What's the newest grief? Each minute tunes a new one.
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I am a Jew: Hath not a Jew eyes? hath not a Jew hands, organs, dimensions, senses, affections, passions? fed with die same food, hurt with the same weapons, subject to the same diseases, healed by the same means, warmed and cooled by the same winter and summer, as a Christian is?
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Rumour is a pipe Blown by surmises, jealousies, conjectures And of so easy and so plain a stop That the blunt monster with uncounted heads, The still-discordant wavering multitude, Can play upon it.
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I hold my peace, sir? no No, I will speak as liberal as the north Let heaven and men and devils, let them all, All, all, cry shame against me, yet I'll speak.
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