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Most dear actors, eat no onions nor garlic, for we are to utter sweet breath.
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
Sweet
Food
Actors
Garlic
Onions
Utter
Breath
Breaths
Dear
More quotes by William Shakespeare
Now, good digestion wait on appetite, and health on both!
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Cold indeed, and labor lost: Then farewell heat, and welcome frost!
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Thriftless ambition, that wilt ravin up Thine own life's means!
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I say there is no darkness but ignorance.
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Well could he ride, and often men would say, That horse his mettle from his rider takes: Proud of subjection, noble by the sway, What rounds, what bounds, what course, what stop he makes! And controversy hence a question takes, Whether the horse by him became his deed, Or he his manage by the well-doing steed.
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They do not love that do not show their love. The course of true love never did run smooth. Love is a familiar. Love is a devil. There is no evil angel but Love.
William Shakespeare
Double, double, toil and trouble Fire burn, and cauldron bubble!
William Shakespeare
Being of no power to make his wishes good: His promises fly so beyond his state That what he speaks is all in debt he owes For every word.
William Shakespeare
I cannot but remember such things were that were most precious to me.
William Shakespeare
I'll read enough When I do see the very book indeed Where all my sins are writ, and that's myself.
William Shakespeare
Sufferance is the badge of all our tribe.
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One sin, I know, another doth provoke. Murder's as near to lust as flame to smoke.
William Shakespeare
I think the devil will not have me damned, lest the oil that's in me should set hell on fire.
William Shakespeare
I may command where I adore.
William Shakespeare
As love is full of unbefitting strains, All wanton as a child, skipping and vain, Form'd by the eye and therefore, like the eye, Full of strange shapes, of habits and of forms, Varying in subjects as the eye doth roll To every varied object in his glance
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Now old desire doth in his deathbed lie, And young affection gapes to be his heir That fair for which love groan'd for and would die, With tender Juliet match'd, is now not fair.
William Shakespeare
Many that are not mad have, sure, more lack of reason.
William Shakespeare
Tis in my memory lock'd, And you yourself shall keep the key of it.
William Shakespeare
Britain is A world by itself, and we will nothing pay For wearing our own noses.
William Shakespeare
I wonder men dare trust themselves with men.
William Shakespeare