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And I will make it felony to drink small beer.
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
Beer
Drink
Small
Make
Felony
More quotes by William Shakespeare
How many a holy and obsequious tear hath dear religious love stolen from mine eye, as interest of the dead!
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Sleep knits up the raveled sleeve of care.
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The heart hath treble wrong When it is barr'd the aidance of the tongue.
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I hold him but a fool that will endanger His body for a girl that loves him not.
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Sweets with sweets war not, joy delights in joy.
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Enough no more Tis not so sweet now as it was before.
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So musical a discord, such sweet thunder.
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Forever, and forever, farewell, Cassius! If we do meet again, why, we shall smile If not, why then this parting was well made.
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Can it be That modesty may more betray our sense Than woman's lightness? Having waste ground enough, Shall we desire to raze the sanctuary And pitch our evils there?
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Oh, flatter me for love delights in praises.
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The summer's flower is to the summer sweet Though to itself it only live and die
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Love goes toward love.
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Blessed are the peacemakers on earth.
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But love is blind and lovers cannot see
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Charity itself fulfills the law. And who can sever love from charity?
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Will Fortune never come with both hands full, But write her fair words still in foulest terms?
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An angel or, if not, An earthly paragon.
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The setting sun, and the music at the close, As the last taste of sweets, is sweetest last, Writ in rememberance more than long things past.
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Thrift, thrift, Horatio! The funeral bak'd meats did coldly furnish forth the marriage tables.
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All things that we ordained festival Turn from their office to black funeral-- Our instruments to melancholy bells, Our wedding cheer to a sad burial feast Our solemn hymns to sullen dirges change Our bridal flowers serve for a buried corse And all things change them to the contrary.
William Shakespeare
