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Thou hast no figures nor no fantasies Which busy care draws in the brains of men Therefore thou sleep'st so sound.
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
Figures
Hast
Therefore
Insomnia
Sleep
Fantasies
Brain
Brains
Sound
Thou
Care
Draws
Men
Fantasy
Busy
More quotes by William Shakespeare
We go to gain a little patch of ground that hath in it no profit but the name.
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Poor wretches that depend On greatness' favor, dream as I have done Wake, and find nothing.
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Virtue is chok'd with foul ambition
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And how his audit stands who knows, save Heaven?
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Who is Silvia What is she, That all our swains commend her Holy, fair, and wise is she.
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Death makes no conquest of this conqueror: For now he lives in fame, though not in life.
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Some are born great, some achieve greatness, and some have greatness thrust upon them.
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Value dwells not in particular will It holds his estimate and dignity As well wherein 'tis precious of itself As in the prizer.
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An old man, broken with the storms of state, Is come to lay his weary bones among ye Give him a little earth for charity!
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Would I were in an alehouse in London.
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Flout 'em, and scout 'em and scout 'em, and flout 'em / Thought is free.
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I'll never Be such a gosling to obey instinct, but stand As is a man were author of himself And knew no other kin.
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The pleasant'st angling is to see the fish Cut with her golden oars the silver stream And greedily devour the treacherous bait.
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Our remedies oft in ourselves do lie, Which we ascribe to Heaven.
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The southern wind Doth play the trumpet to his purposes And, by his hollow whistling in the leaves, Foretells a tempest and a blustering day.
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it is not enough to speak, but to speak truee
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I count myself in nothing else so happy as in a soul remembering my good Friends
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Such an act That blurs the grace and blush of modesty Calls virtue hypocrite takes off the rose From the fair forehead of an innocent love, And sets a blister there makes marriage vows As false as dicers' oaths.
William Shakespeare
By a divine instinct, men's minds mistrust ensuing danger as, by proof, we see the waters swell before a boisterous storm.
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Lay her i' the earth: And from her fair and unpolluted flesh May violets spring! I tell thee, churlish priest, A ministering angel shall my sister be, When thou liest howling. HAMLET. What, the fair Ophelia! QUEEN GERTRUDE. Sweets to the sweet: farewell!
William Shakespeare
