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Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May.
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
Spring
Bud
Poet
Darling
Poetry
Winds
Wind
Shake
May
Shakes
Rough
Thee
Buds
Summer
Sonnet
More quotes by William Shakespeare
As chaste as is the bud ere it be blown.
William Shakespeare
Fie, thou dishonest Satan! I call thee by the most modest terms for I am one of those gentle ones that will use the devil himself with courtesy: sayest thou that house is dark?
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When he is best, he is a little worse than a man and when he is worst, he is little better than a beast.
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Come, woo me, woo me, for now I am in a holiday humor, and like enough to consent.
William Shakespeare
Still constant is a wondrous excellence.
William Shakespeare
Truth hath a quiet breast.
William Shakespeare
We bring forth weeds when our quick minds lie still.
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I am wealthy in my friends.
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I have more care to stay than will to go.
William Shakespeare
Withal I did infer your lineaments, Being the right idea of your father, Both in your form and nobleness of mind Laid open all your victories in Scotland, Your discipline in war, wisdom in peace, Your bounty, virtue, fair humility Indeed, left nothing fitting for your purpose Untouch'd or slightly handled in discourse.
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How far that little candle throws its beams! So shines a good deed in a naughty world.
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And his unkindness may defeat my life, But never taint my love.
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For honesty coupled to beauty, is to have honey a sauce to sugar.
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Grim-visaged war hath smoothed his wrinkled front And now, instead of mounting barbed steeds To fright the souls of fearful adversaries, He capers nimbly in a lady's chamber To the lascivious pleasing of a lute.
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He that dies this year is quit for the next.
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All dark and comfortless.
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I know a bank where the wild thyme blows, Where oxlips and the nodding violet grows, Quite over-canopied with luscious woodbine, With sweet musk-roses and with eglantine.
William Shakespeare
God has given you one face, and you make yourself another.
William Shakespeare
The seasons alter: hoary-headed frosts Fall in the fresh lap of the crimson rose.
William Shakespeare
Such tricks hath strong imagination, That, if it would but apprehend some joy, It comprehends some bringer of that joy Or in the night, imagining some fear, How easy is a bush supposed a bear!
William Shakespeare
