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Now 'tis spring, and weeds are shallow-rooted Suffer them now and they'll o'ergrow the garden.
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
Garden
Spring
Suffering
Weeds
Shallow
Weed
Rooted
Suffer
More quotes by William Shakespeare
When love begins to sicken and decay it uses an enforced ceremony.
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I once did hold it, as our statists do, A baseness to write fair, and labour'd much How to forget that learning but, sir, now It did me yeoman's service.
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Well, whiles I am a beggar, I will rail, And say there is no sin but to be rich And being rich, my virtue then shall be To say there is no vice but beggary
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I am not in the roll of common men.
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But since the affairs of men rests still incertain, Let's reason with the worst that may befall.
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Men should be what they seem.
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There's little of the melancholy element in her, my lord: she is never sad but when she sleeps and not ever sad then for I have heard my daughter say, she hath often dreamt of unhappiness, and waked herself with laughing.
William Shakespeare
O, call back yesterday, bid time return
William Shakespeare
Unless hours were cups of sack, and minutes capons, and clocks the tongues of bawds, and dials the signs of leaping-houses, and the blessed sun himself a fair hot wench in flame-colored taffeta, I see no reason why thou shouldst be so superfluous to demand the time of the day.
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We must love men, ere to us they will seem worthy of our love.
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Strong reasons make strong actions let us go If you say ay, the king will not say no.
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Beauty is but a vain and doubtful good a shining gloss that fadeth suddenly a flower that dies when it begins to bud a doubtful good, a gloss, a glass, a flower, lost, faded, broken, dead within an hour.
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Most friendship is faining, most loving mere folly: Then, heigh-ho, the holly. This life is most jolly.
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Our rash faults Make trivial price of serious thing we have, Not knowing them until we know their grave.
William Shakespeare
A good wit will make use of anything.
William Shakespeare
Beggar that I am, I am even poor in thanks
William Shakespeare
It is the stars, The stars above us, govern our conditions.
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A high hope for a low heaven: God grant us patience!
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I do not set my life at a pin's fee, And for my soul, what can it do to that, Being a thing immortal as itself?
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This passion, and the death of a dear friend, would go near to make a man look sad.
William Shakespeare
