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Flower of this purple dye, Hit with Cupid's archery, Sink in apple of his eye.
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
Apples
Flower
Eye
Archery
Cupid
Sink
Purple
Apple
More quotes by William Shakespeare
Be checked for silence, But never taxed for speech.
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Lions make leopards tame.
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Music, moody food Of us that trade in love.
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Mercy is not itself, that oft looks so Pardon is still the nurse of second woe.
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When the sun shines let foolish gnats make sport, But creep in crannies when he hides his beams.
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If music be the food of love, play on, Give me excess of it that surfeiting, The appetite may sicken, and so die.
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O, beware, my lord, of jealousy It is the green-ey'd monster, which doth mock The meat it feeds on.
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O braggart vile and damned furious wight!
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I have set my life upon a cast, And I will stand the hazard of the die.
William Shakespeare
Kindness nobler ever than revenge.
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Oh, that way madness lies let me shun that.
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Most friendship is feigning, most loving mere folly.
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Ay me! for aught that I could ever read, Could ever hear by tale or history, The course of true love never did run smooth. But, either it was different in blood,- Or else it stood upon the choice of friends,- Or, if there were a sympathy in choice, War, death, or sickness did lay siege to it.
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Alas, I am a woman friendless, hopeless!
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So we grew together like to a double cherry, seeming parted, but yet an union in partition, two lovely berries molded on one stem.
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Thou frothy tickle-brained hedge-pig!
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To whom God will, there be the victory.
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Poor and content is rich, and rich enough.
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For now I stand as one upon a rock environed with a wilderness of sea, who marks the waxing tide grow wave by wave, expecting ever when some envious surge will in his brinish bowels swallow him.
William Shakespeare
Nay, we must think men are not gods, Nor of them look for such observancy As fits the bridal.
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