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I do oppose My patience to his fury, and am arm'd To suffer, with a quietness of spirit, The very tyranny and rage of his.
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
Suffer
Arms
Suffering
Quietness
Spirit
Oppose
Fury
Tyranny
Rage
Patience
More quotes by William Shakespeare
I love thee, I love thee with a love that shall not die. Till the sun grows cold and the stars grow old.
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I had rather live with cheese and garlic in a windmill.
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But here's the joy: my friend and I are one, Sweet flattery!
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Yet this my comfort: when your words are done, My woes end likewise with the evening sun.
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Charity itself fulfills the law. And who can sever love from charity?
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A table full of welcome makes scarce one dainty dish.
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Titus Andronicus, my lord the Emperor Sends thee this word, that, if thou love thy sons, Let Marcus, Lucius, or thyself, old Titus, Or any one of you, chop off your hand And send it to the King: he for the same Will send thee hither both thy sons alive, And that shall be the ransom for their fault.
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Sweet are the uses of adversity
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Those that do teach young babes Do it with gentle means and easy tasks.
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The earth, that is nature's mother, is her tomb.
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Sweet Beatrice, wouldst thou come when I called thee? BEATRICE Yea, signior, and depart when you bid me. BENEDICK O, stay but till then! BEATRICE 'Then' is spoken fare you well now... (Much Ado About Nothing)
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Waste not thy time in windy argument but let the matter drop.
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The native hue of resolution is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought and enterprises of great pitch and moment, With this regard, their currents turn awry, and lose the name of action.
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Kiss me, Kate, we shall be married o'Sunday
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You know that love Will creep in service where it cannot go.
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To hold, as 't were, the mirror up to nature.
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O, Thou hast damnable iteration and art, indeed, able to corrupt a saint.
William Shakespeare
O heaven! that one might read the book of fate, and see the revolution of the times.
William Shakespeare
We are time's subjects, and time bids be gone.
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O comfort-killing night, image of hell, Dim register and notary of shame, Black stage for tragedies and murders fell, Vast sin-concealing chaos, nurse of blame!
William Shakespeare
