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You cannot call it love, for at your age the heyday in the blood is tame
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
Cannot
Love
Heyday
Tame
Blood
Call
Age
More quotes by William Shakespeare
To beguile the time, look like the time.
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Sweet love! Sweet lines! Sweet life! Here is her hand, the agent of her heart Here is her oath for love, her honour's pawn
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I can again thy former light restore, Should I repent me: but once put out thy light, Thou cunning'st pattern of excelling nature, I know not where is that Promethean heat That can thy light relume.
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Wherefore was I to this keen mockery born? When at your hands did I deserve this scorn? Is't not enough, is't not enough, young man, That I did never, no, nor never can, Deserve a sweet look from Demetrius' eye, But you must flout my insufficiency?
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Conscience is a thousand swords.
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Come now, what masques, what dances shall we have To wear away this long age of three hours Between our after-supper and bedtime?
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A table-full of welcome!
William Shakespeare
So holy and so perfect is my love, And I in such a poverty of grace, That I shall think it a most plenteous crop To glean the broken ears after the man That the main harvest reaps.
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O no, thy love though much, is not so great, It is my love that keeps mine eye awake, Mine own true love that doth my rest defeat, To play the watchman ever for thy sake. For thee watch I, whilst thou dost wake elsewhere, From me far off, with others all too near.
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Is it possible he should know what he is, and be that he is?
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How every fool can play upon the word!
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Mercy is not itself, that oft looks so Pardon is still the nurse of second woe.
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The sweets we wish for, turn to loathed sours, Even in the moment that we call them ours.
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If money go before, all ways do lie open.
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Laughing faces do not mean that there is absence of sorrow! But it means that they have the ability to deal with it
William Shakespeare
Much rain wears the marble.
William Shakespeare
See, what a ready tongue suspicion hath! He that but fears the thing he would not know, Hath, by instinct, knowledge from others' eyes, That what he feared is chanced.
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I was born free as Caesar so were you
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Music, moody food Of us that trade in love.
William Shakespeare
The purest treasure mortal times can afford is a spotless reputation.
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