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Beauty itself doth of itself persuade the eyes of men without an orator.
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
Eye
Without
Orator
Men
Orators
Seduction
Persuade
Doth
Beauty
Eyes
More quotes by William Shakespeare
When that the poor have cried, Caesar hath wept: Ambition should be made of sterner stuff: Yet Brutus says he was ambitious And Brutus is an honourable man.
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Thy words, I grant are bigger, for I wear not, my dagger in my mouth.
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This is a way to kill a wife with kindness.
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A woman that is like a German clock, Still a-repairing, ever out of frame, And never going aright, being a watch, But being watched that it may still go right!
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They say miracles are past.
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So far be distant and good night, sweet friend: thy love ne'er alter, till they sweet life end
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Have not saints lips, and holy palmers too Ay, pilgrim, lips that they must use in prayer.
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An old black ram is tupping your white ewe
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Adversity's sweet milk, philosophy.
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Truth will come to sight murder cannot be hid long.
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Women are not In their best fortunes strong, but want will perjure the ne'er-touched vestal.
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O Ceremony, show me but thy worth? What is thy soul of adoration? Art thou aught else but place, degree, and form, Creating awe and fear in other men?
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The last taste of sweets is sweetest last.
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To wilful men, the injuries that they themselves procure must be their schoolmasters.
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Truly thou art damned, like an ill-roasted egg, all on one side.
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His words are bonds, his oaths are oracles his love sincere, his thoughts immaculate his tears pure messengers sent from his heart his heart as far from fraud, as heaven from earth
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Many a true word hath been spoken in jest.
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You'd be so lean, that blast of January Would blow you through and through. Now, my fair'st friend, I would I had some flowers o' the spring that might Become your time of day.
William Shakespeare
Yet nor the lays of birds nor the sweet smell Of different flowers in odour and in hue Could make me any summer's story tell, Or from their proud lap pluck them where they grew Nor did I wonder at the lily's white, Nor praise the deep vermilion in the rose They were but sweet, but figures of delight, Drawn after you, you pattern of all those.
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I am a Jew: Hath not a Jew eyes? hath not a Jew hands, organs, dimensions, senses, affections, passions? fed with die same food, hurt with the same weapons, subject to the same diseases, healed by the same means, warmed and cooled by the same winter and summer, as a Christian is?
William Shakespeare
