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My charity is outrage, life my shame And in that shame still live my sorrow's rage!
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
Life
Outrage
Rage
Charity
Shame
Sorrow
Stills
Still
Live
More quotes by William Shakespeare
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What valor were it, when a cur doth grin, for one to thrust his hand between his teeth, when he might spurn him with his foot away?
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The love that follows us sometime is our trouble, which still we thank as love.
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We must be gentle now we are gentlemen.
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The king hath note of all that they intend, by interception which they dream not of.
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A light heart lives long.
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It is not vain glory for a man and his glass to confer in his own chamber.
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What made me love thee? let that persuade thee, there's something extraordinary in thee
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Ere yet the salt of most unrighteous tears Had left the flushing of her gallèd eyes, She married. O, most wicked speed, to post With such dexterity to incestuous sheets!
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In nature there's no blemish but the mind. None can be called deformed but the unkind.
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If she be not honest, chaste, and true, there's no man happy.
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How quickly nature falls into revolt When gold becomes her object! For this the foolish over-careful fathers Have broke their sleep with thoughts, their brains with care, Their bones with industry.
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You know That I do fawn on men, and hug them hard, And after scandal them.
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O thou invisible spirit of wine, if thou hast no name to be known by, let us call thee devil.
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Suffer love a good epithet! I do suffer love, indeed, for I love thee against my will.
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When thou cam'st first, Thou strok'st me and made much of me wouldst give me Water with berries in't and teach me how To name the bigger light, and how the less, That burn by day and night and then I loved thee And showed thee all the qualities o' th' isle, The fresh springs, brine-pits, barren place and fertile.
William Shakespeare
