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That which is now a horse, even with a thought The rack dislimms, and makes it indistinct As water is in water
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
Horse
Water
Makes
Thought
Even
Indistinct
Rack
Racks
More quotes by William Shakespeare
When once our grace we have forgot, Nothing goes right.
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Thrice is he arm'd that hath his quarrel just, And he but naked, though lock'd up in steel, Whose conscience with injustice is corrupted.
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Remuneration! O! That's the Latin word for three farthings
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O jest unseen, inscrutable, invisible, As a nose on a man's face, or a weathercock on a steeple.
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Tears harden lust, though marble wear with raining.
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Where every something, being blent together turns to a wild of nothing.
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Speak the speech, I pray you, as I pronounc'd it to you, trippingly on the tongue.
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A violet in the youth of primy nature, Forward, not permanent--sweet, not lasting The perfume and suppliance of a minute No more.
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Because I cannot flatter and look fair, Smile in men's faces, smooth, deceive, and cog, Duck with French nods and apish courtesy, I must be held a rancorous enemy.
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The coward dies a thousand deaths, the valiant, only once!
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Speak, what trade art thou? Why, sir, a carpenter. Where is thy leather apron and thy rule? What does thou with thy best apparel on?
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Robust grass endures mighty winds loyal ministers emerge through ordeal.
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How much salt water thrown away in waste/ To season love, that of it doth not taste.
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Be lion-mettled, proud, and take no care Who chafes, who frets, or where conspirers are!
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The pow'r that I have on you is to spare you The malice towards you to forgive you.
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Now the melancholy God protect thee, and the tailor make thy garments of changeable taffeta, for thy mind is opal.
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The Dear father Would with his daughter speak, commands her service Are they inform'd of this?
William Shakespeare
Dispute not with her: she is lunatic.
William Shakespeare
A woman moved is like a fountain troubled, Muddy, ill-seeming, thick, bereft of beauty.
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In sooth I know not why I am so sad. It wearies me, you say it wearies you But how I caught it, found it, or came by it, What stuff 'tis made of, whereof it is born, I am to learn.
William Shakespeare