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Thou ever young, fresh, lov'd, and delicate wooer, whose blush doth thaw the consecrated snow
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
Whose
Thaw
Young
Consecrated
Ever
Blush
Doth
Delicate
Fresh
Snow
Thou
More quotes by William Shakespeare
Though she be but little, she is fierce!
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So shaken as we are, so wan with care, Find we a time for frighted peace to pant And breathe short-winded accents of new broils To be commenced in stronds afar remote.
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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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The moon, like to a silver bow new bent in heaven.
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So all my best is dressing old words new.
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You common cry of curs! whose breath I hate As reek o' the rotten fens, whose loves I prize As the dead carcasses of unburied men That do corrupt my air, I banish you And here remain with your uncertainty!
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So weary with disasters, tugg'd with fortune, That I would set my life on any chance, To mend, or be rid on't.
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Mend when thou canst be better at thy leisure.
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A peace is of the nature of a conquest for then both parties nobly are subdued, and neither party loser.
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Never shame to hear what you have nobly done
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Ay, but to die and go we know not where To lie in cold obstrution and to rot This sensible warm motion to become A kneaded clod and the delighted spirit To bathe in fiery floods or to reside In thrilling regions of thick-ribbed ice To be imprison'd in the viewless winds, And blown with restless violence round about The pendant world.
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The quality of nothing hath not such need to hide itself
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Here comes Monseiur Le Beau. Rosalind: With his mouth full of news. Celia: Which he will put on us, as pigeons feed their young. Rosalind: Then shall we be news-crammed. Celia: All the better we shall be the more marketable.
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We cannot fight for love, as men may do we shou'd be woo'd, and were not made to woo
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A rarer spirit never Did steer humanity but you gods will give us Some faults to make us men.
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Men's eyes were made to look, and let them gaze. I will not budge for no man's pleasure.
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He is not great who is not greatly good.
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Let me not live, after my flame lacks oil, to be the snuff of younger spirits.
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Woe to that land that's governed by a child.
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Men should be what they seem.
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