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Alas, that love, whose view is muffled still, Should without eyes see pathways to his will!
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
Still
Pathways
Without
Alas
Love
Whose
View
Views
Eyes
Eye
Muffled
Stills
Impulsive
More quotes by William Shakespeare
I do oppose My patience to his fury, and am arm'd To suffer, with a quietness of spirit, The very tyranny and rage of his.
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Her virtues, graced with external gifts, Do breed love's settled passions in my heart And like as rigour of tempestuous gusts Provokes the mightiest hulk against the tide, So am I driven by breath of her renown Either to suffer shipwreck or arrive Where I may have fruition of her love.
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thus with a kiss I die
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Virtue and genuine graces in themselves speak what no words can utter.
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Remember thee! Ay, thou poor ghost, while memory holds a seat In this distracted globe.
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What stronger breastplate than a heart untainted! Thrice is he arm'd, that hath his quarrel just.
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Do thou amend thy face, and I'll amend my life.
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Go hang yourself, you naughty mocking uncle!
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I pray you bear me henceforth from the noise and rumour of the field, where I may think the remnant of my thoughts in peace, and part of this body and my soul with contemplation and devout desires.
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He that loves to be flattered is worthy o' the flatterer.
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Death rock me asleep.
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Ay, in the catalogue ye go for men As hounds, and greyhounds, mongrels, spaniels, curs, Shoughs, water-rugs, and demi-wolves, are 'clept All by the name of dogs: the valued file Distinguishes the swift, the slow, the subtle, The housekeeper, the hunter, every one According to the gift which bounteous nature Hath in him closed.
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And worse I may be yet: the worst is not So long as we can say 'This is the worst.
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I'll go find a shadow, and sigh till he come (Phebe)
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If people knew how much I hated them, they'd love me for holding it in.
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Hope is a lover's staff walk hence with that And manage it against despairing thoughts.
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The patient must minister to himself
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I have lived long enough. My way of life is to fall into the sere, the yellow leaf, and that which should accompany old age, as honor, love, obedience, troops of friends I must not look to have.
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The language I have learnt these forty years, My native English, now I must forgo And now my tongue's use is to me no more Than an unstringed viol or a harp, Or like a cunning instrument cased up Or, being open, put into his hands That knows no touch to tune the harmony.
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Reputation is an idle and most false imposition oft got without merit, and lost without deserving.
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