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I'll fight, till from my bones my flesh be hacked.
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
Flesh
Fight
Fighting
War
Hacked
Till
Bones
More quotes by William Shakespeare
Pray, love, remember: and there is pansies, that's for thoughts.
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Being of no power to make his wishes good: His promises fly so beyond his state That what he speaks is all in debt he owes For every word.
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Teach not thy lip such scorn, for it was made For kissing, lady, not for such contempt.
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Things past redress are now with me past care
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When devils will the blackest sins put on They do suggest at first with heavenly shows
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thy wit is a very bitter sweeting it is a most sharp sauce.
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A good heart is the sun and the moon or, rather, the sun and not the moon, for it shines bright and never changes.
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Thou mak'st me merry: I am full of pleasure let us be jocund
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. . from this moment The very firstlings of my heart shall be The firstlings of my hand. And even now, To crown my thoughts with acts, be it thought and done.
William Shakespeare
DEMETRIUS Relent, sweet Hermia: and, Lysander, yield Thy crazed title to my certain right. LYSANDER You have her father's love, Demetrius Let me have Hermia's: do you marry him.
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Faith, I have been a truant in the law And never yet could frame my will to it, And therefore frame the law unto my will.
William Shakespeare
My business was great, and in such a case as mine a man may strain courtesy.
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Now, neighbor confines, purge you of your scum! Have you a ruffian that will swear, drink, dance, revel the night, rob, murder, and commit the oldest sins the newest kind of ways?
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A table-full of welcome!
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The moon shines bright. In such a night as this. When the sweet wind did gently kiss the trees and they did make no noise, in such a night.
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My love is as a fever, longing still For that which longer nurseth the disease, Feeding on that which doth preserve the ill, Th' uncertain sickly appetite to please. My reason, the physician to my love, Angry that his prescriptions are not kept, Hath left me, and I desperate now approve Desire is death, which physic did except.
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If thou engrossest all the griefs are thine, Thou robb'st me of a moiety.
William Shakespeare
All's well that ends well still the fine's the crown. Whate'er the course, the end is the renown.
William Shakespeare
Oh, injurious love, that respites me a life, whose very comfort is still a dying horror
William Shakespeare
More matter with less art.
William Shakespeare
