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We go to gain a little patch of ground that hath in it no profit but the name.
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
Profit
Gains
Ground
Name
Names
Patch
War
Patches
Littles
Hath
Little
Gain
More quotes by William Shakespeare
Commit the oldest sins the newest kind of ways.
William Shakespeare
My conscience hath a thousand several tongues, And every tongue brings in a several tale, And every tale condemns me for a villain. Perjury, perjury, in the high'st degree Murder, stern murder in the dir'st degree, Throng to the bar, crying all, 'Guilty!, guilty!
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O gentlemen, the time of life is short! To spend that shortness basely were too long, If life did ride upon a dial's point, Still ending at the arrival of an hour.
William Shakespeare
Love's mind of judgment rarely hath a taste: Wings and no eyes figure unheedy haste.
William Shakespeare
For man is a giddy thing, and this is my conclusion.
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I have seen better faces in my time Than stands on any shoulder that I see Before me at this instant.
William Shakespeare
Foolery, sir, does walk about the orb like the sun it shines everywhere.
William Shakespeare
He must needs go that the devil drives.
William Shakespeare
Words spoken can not be recalled so think twice before you speak.
William Shakespeare
Nature hath framed strange fellows in her time.
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All things are ready, if our mind be so.
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By medicine life may be prolonged, yet death will seize the doctor too.
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In nature's infinite book of secrecy A little I can read.
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I wish my horse had the speed of your tongue.
William Shakespeare
What a piece of work is a man
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My stronger guilt defeats my strong intent.
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And in the morn and liquid dew of youth, Contagious blastments are are most imminent.
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It is a familiar beast to man, and signifies love.
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O, how I faint when I of you do write, Knowing a better spirit doth use your name, And in the praise thereof spends all his might To make me tongue-tied speaking of your fame.
William Shakespeare
Say she rail why, I'll tell her plain She sings as sweetly as a nightingale. Say that she frown I'll say she looks as clear As morning roses newly wash'd with dew. Say she be mute and will not speak a word Then I'll commend her volubility, and say she uttereth piercing eloquence.
William Shakespeare
