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Time's the king of men he's both their parent, and he is their grave, and gives them what he will, not what they crave.
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
Kings
Gives
Parent
Giving
Men
Crave
Time
Grave
Graves
King
More quotes by William Shakespeare
When a gentlemen is disposed to swear, it is not for any standers-by to curtail his oaths.
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Speak, my fair, and fairly, I pray thee.
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God send everyone their heart's desire!
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In thee thy mother dies, our household's name, My death's revenge, thy youth, and England's fame.
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Man, proud man, Drest in a little brief authority, Most ignorant of what he's most assured.
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Your praises will become your wages.
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Though Fortune's malice overthrow my state, My mind exceeds the compass of her wheel.
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And she's fair I love.
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And to the English court assemble now, From every region, apes of idleness!
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If she be fair and wise, fairness and wit, The one's for use, the other useth it.
William Shakespeare
O, how full of briers is this working-day world!
William Shakespeare
I have not slept. Between the acting of a dreadful thing And the first motion, all the interim is Like a phantasma, or a hideous dream: The Genius and the mortal instruments Are then in council and the state of man, Like to a little kingdom, suffers then The nature of an insurrection.
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His jest will savour but of shallow wit, When thousands weep, more than did laugh at it.
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And Caesar shall go forth.
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O heaven! that one might read the book of fate, and see the revolution of the times.
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Tut, man, one fire burns out another's burning One pain is less'ned by another's anguish Turn giddy, and be holp by backward turning One desperate grief cures with another's languish.
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There is little choice in a barrel of rotten apples.
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O, where is loyalty? If it be banished from the frosty head, Where shall it find a harbor in the earth?
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Friends, Romans, countrymen, lend me your ears I come to bury Caesar, not to praise him.
William Shakespeare
If I can catch him once upon the hip, I will feed fat the ancient grudge I bear him.
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