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Is there no pity sitting in the clouds, That sees into the bottom of my grief?
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
Suffering
Juliet
Grieving
Sees
Pity
Clouds
Grief
Bottom
Sitting
More quotes by William Shakespeare
He hath borne himself beyond the promise of his age, doing, in the figure of a lamb, the feats of a lion.
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What we determine we often break. Purpose is but the slave to memory.
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Mechanic slaves With greasy aprons, rules, and hammers, shall Uplift us to the view.
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Canst thou, O partial sleep, give thy repose to the wet sea-boy in an hour so rude, and in the calmest and most stillest night, with all appliances and means to boot, deny it to a king?
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Women are angels, wooing: Things won are done joy's soul lies in the doing: That she beloved knows naught, that knows not this-- Men prize the thing ungained more than it is.
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Parting is such sweet sorrow
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The law hath not been dead, though it hath slept.
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All love's pleasure shall not match its woe.
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In law, what plea so tainted and corrupts, but being seasoned with a gracious voice obscures the show of evil.
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Now entertain conjecture of a time When creeping murmur and the poring dark Fills the wide vessel of the universe.
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Sir, the year growing ancient, Not yet on summer's death nor on the birth Of trembling winter, the fairest flowers o' th' season Are our carnations and streaked gillyvors, Which some call nature's bastards.
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All his successors gone before him have done 't and all his ancestors that come after him may.
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But here's the joy: my friend and I are one, Sweet flattery!
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What can be avoided Whose end is purposed by the mighty gods?
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What, keep a week away? Seven days and nights, Eightscore-eight hours, and lovers' absent hours More tedious than the dial eightscore times! O weary reckoning!
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By medicine life may be prolonged, yet death will seize the doctor too.
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Yon grey lines That fret the clouds are messengers of day.
William Shakespeare
O sleep, O gentle sleep, Nature's soft nurse, how have I frightened thee, 1710. That thou no more will weigh my eyelids down, And steep my senses in forgetfulness?
William Shakespeare
By being seldom seen, I could not stir But like a comet I was wondered at.
William Shakespeare
For what is wedlock forced but a hell, An age of discord and continual strife? Whereas the contrary bringeth bliss, And is a pattern of celestial peace.
William Shakespeare