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If thou remeber'st not the slightest folly that ever love did make thee run into, thou hast not lov'd
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
Folly
Thou
Thee
Running
Ever
Make
Love
Hast
Slightest
More quotes by William Shakespeare
A lion among ladies is a most dreadful thing.
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What, shall one of us, That struck for the foremost man of all this world But for supporting robbers--shall we now Contaminate our fingers with base bribes, And sell the mighty space of our large honors For so much trash as may be grasped thus?
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Poor and content is rich, and rich enough.
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Dirty days hath September April June and November From January up to May The rain it raineth every day All the rest have thirty-one Without a blessed gleam of sun And if any of them had two-and-thirty They'd be just as wet and twice as dirty. April hath put a spirit of youth in everything.
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Away, you mouldy rogue, away!
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One pain is lessened by another's anguish.
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I thank God I am not a woman, to be touched in so many giddy offences as He hath generally taxed their whole their whole sex withal.
William Shakespeare
Feed on her damask cheek: she pined in thought, And with a green and yellow melancholy She sat like patience on a monument, Smiling at grief
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Every why has a wherefore.
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Some rise by sin, and some by virtue fall.
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I should think this a gull, but that the white-bearded fellow speaks it knavery cannot, sure, hide himself in such reverence.
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She says I am not fair, that I lack manners She calls me proud, and that she could not love me, Were man as rare as Phoenix.
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Now I will believe that there are unicorns.
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So far be distant and good night, sweet friend: thy love ne'er alter, till they sweet life end
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I had rather eleven died nobly for their country than one voluptuously surfeit out of action.
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Well, while I live I'll fear no other thing So sore as keeping safe Nerissa's ring.
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Sycorax has grown into a hoop
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To fear the worst oft cures the worst.
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What we determine we often break. Purpose is but the slave to memory.
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For man is a giddy thing, and this is my conclusion.
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