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'Tis the soldier's life to have their balmy slumbers waked with strife.
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
Soldier
Army
Life
Waked
Balmy
Slumbers
Slumber
Navy
Strife
More quotes by William Shakespeare
I told you, sir, they were red-hot with drinking so full of valor that they smote the air, for breathing in their faces, beat the ground for kissing of their feet.
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Foul whisperings are abroad
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You are yoked with a lamb, That carries anger as the flint bears fire Who, much enforced, shows a hasty spank, And straight is cold again.
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You have her father's love, Demetrius Let me have Hermia's: do you marry him!
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They are but beggars that can count their worth.
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Come the three corners of the world in arms, and we shall shock them.
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Tis mad idolatry To make the service greater than the god.
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Words to deeds cold breath gives.
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We do not keep the outward form of order, where there is deep disorder in the mind.
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Think'st thou it honourable for a noble man Still to remember wrongs?
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It is a familiar beast to man, and signifies love.
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In maiden meditation, fancy free.
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And all this day an unaccustomed spirit lifts me above the ground with cheerful thoughts.
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As soon go kindle fire with snow, as seek to quench the fire of love with words.
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To be, or not to be, that is the question.
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An honest man, sir, is able to speak for himself, when a knave is not.
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She dreams of him that has forgot her love You dote on her that cares not for your love. 'Tis pity love should be so contrary And thinking of it makes me cry 'alas!
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Love and meekness, lord, Become a churchman better than ambition: Win straying souls with modesty again, Cast none away.
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Assume a virtue, if you have it not. That monster, custom, who all sense doth eat Of habits devil, is angel yet in this.
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O! Let me not be mad, not mad, sweet heaven keep me in temper I would not be mad!
William Shakespeare
