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Prepare for mirth, for mirth becomes a feast.
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
Prepare
Laughter
Laughing
Joy
Becomes
Happiness
Feast
Mirth
More quotes by William Shakespeare
O wonderful, wonderful, and most wonderful wonderful! And yet again wonderful, and after that, out of all hooping.
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O heaven! were man, But constant, he were perfect.
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I will be brief. Your noble son is mad.
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I have been studying how I may compare This prison where I live unto the world And, for because the world is populous, And here is not a creature but myself, I cannot do it. Yet I'll hammer it out.
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She cannot love, nor take no shape nor project or affection, she is so self-endeared
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I have drunk and seen the spider.
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Yea from the table of my memory I'll wipe away all trivial fond records.
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I can no other answer make, but, thanks, and thanks.
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Things done well and with a care, exempt themselves from fear.
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The quality of nothing hath not such need to hide itself
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And writers say, as the most forward bud Is eaten by the canker ere it blow, Even so by love the young and tender wit Is turn'd to folly, blasting in the bud, Losing his verdure even in the prime, And all the fair effects of future hopes.
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Is it possible that love should of a sudden take such a hold?
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Grief makes one hour ten.
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Love's stories written in love's richest books. To fan the moonbeams from his sleeping eyes.
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The man that hath no music in himself, Nor is not moved with concord of sweet sounds, is fit for treasons, stratagems and spoils.
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On Rumor's tongue continual slanders ride.
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What the great ones do, the less will prattle of
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Mine eyes Were not in fault, for she was beautiful Mine ears, that heard her flattery nor my heart, That thought her like her seeming. It had been vicious To have mistrusted her.
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Most friendship is feigning, most loving mere folly.
William Shakespeare
Our wills and fates do so contrary run, That our devices still are overthrown Our thoughts are ours, their ends none of our own.
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