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But love is blind and lovers cannot see
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
Lovers
Blind
Cannot
Love
Cupid
Merchants
Blinded
Venice
Blindness
More quotes by William Shakespeare
Desperate times breed desperate measures
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Every great drama has its foreshadow.
William Shakespeare
Like a red morn that ever yet betokened, Wreck to the seaman, tempest to the field, Sorrow to the shepherds, woe unto the birds, Gusts and foul flaws to herdmen and to herds.
William Shakespeare
It's easy for someone to joke about scars if they've never been cut.
William Shakespeare
The violence of either grief or joy, their own enactures with themselves destroy.
William Shakespeare
For man is a giddy thing, and this is my conclusion.
William Shakespeare
Forever, and forever, farewell, Cassius! If we do meet again, why, we shall smile If not, why then this parting was well made.
William Shakespeare
Hang him, swaggering rascal!
William Shakespeare
I have thought some of Nature's journeymen had made men and not made them well, they imitated humanity so abominably.
William Shakespeare
Discomfort guides my tongue And bids me speak of nothing but despair.
William Shakespeare
That island of England breeds very valiant creatures their mastiffs are of unmatchable courage.
William Shakespeare
We will all laugh at gilded butterflies.
William Shakespeare
The gallantry of his grief did put me into a towering passion.
William Shakespeare
God is our fortress, in whose conquering name Let us resolve to scale their flinty bulwarks.
William Shakespeare
Wish chastely, and love dearly.
William Shakespeare
The love of heaven makes one heavenly.
William Shakespeare
Yon grey lines That fret the clouds are messengers of day.
William Shakespeare
How is it that the clouds still hang on you?
William Shakespeare
Thou art a slave, whom fortune's tender arm With favour never clasp'd but bred a dog.
William Shakespeare
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.
William Shakespeare
