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Then will I raise aloft the milk-white rose. For whose sweet smell the air shall be perfumed.
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
Flower
Perfumed
Whose
Aloft
Sweet
Milk
Shall
Raise
White
Raises
Smell
Rose
Air
More quotes by William Shakespeare
My love is thaw'd Which, like a waxen image 'gainst a fire, bears no impression of the thing it was
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This rough magic I here abjure and when I have required some heavenly music, which even now I do, to work mine end upon their senses that this airy charm is for, I'll break my staff, bury it certain fathoms in the earth, and deeper than did ever plummet sound, I'll drown my book.
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If thou remeber'st not the slightest folly that ever love did make thee run into, thou hast not lov'd
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The heavens forbid But that our loves and comforts should increase Even as our days do grow!
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What is the city but the people?
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And so, from hour to hour, we ripe and ripe. And then, from hour to hour, we rot and rot And thereby hangs a tale.
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If I must die, I will encounter darkness as a bride, and hug it in mine arms.
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Diseases desperate grown By desperate appliances are relieved, Or not at all.
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Women may fall when there's no strength in men.
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By my soul I swear, there is no power in the tongue of man to alter me.
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Is it not strange that desire should so many years outlive performance?
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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.
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By how much unexpected, by so much We must awake endeavour for defence For courage mounteth with occasion.
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Light and lust are deadly enemies.
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When great leaves fall, the winter is at hand.
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There are occasions and causes, why and wherefore in all things.
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Striving to better, oft we mar what’s well.
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Rich honesty dwells like a miser, Sir, in a poor house as your pearl in your foul oyster.
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Let us be Diana's foresters, gentlemen of the shade, minions of the moon
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Shall I compare thee to a summer's day? Thou art more lovely and more temperate: Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May, And summer's lease hath all too short a date . . .
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