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Plutus himself, That knows the tinct and multiplying med'cine, Hath not in nature's mystery more science Than I have in this ring.
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
Medicine
Mystery
Natural
Meds
Science
Multiplying
Nature
Ring
Hath
Rings
Accounts
More quotes by William Shakespeare
Gold--what can it not do, and undo?
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These violent delights have violent ends And in their triumph die, like fire and powder, Which as they kiss consume. The sweetest honey Is loathsome in his own deliciousness And in the taste confounds the appetite. Therefore love moderately long love doth so Too swift arrives as tardy as too slow.
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I am joined with no foot land-rakers, no long-staff, sixpenny strikers, none of these mad, mustachio purple-hued maltworms, but with nobility and tranquillity.
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To beguile the time, look like the time.
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If there be devils, would I were a devil, To live and burn in everlasting fire, So I might have your company in hell, But to torment you with my bitter tongue!
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A table-full of welcome!
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Passion makes the will lord of the reason.
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In such business Action is eloquence, and the eyes of th’ ignorant More learned than the ears.
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Men that make Envy and crooked malice nourishment, Dare bite the best.
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Take but degree away, untune that string, and hark, what discord follows!
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Our remedies oft in ourselves do lie, Which we ascribe to Heaven.
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Foul whisperings are abroad
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Thou art a very ragged Wart.
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Beggar that I am, I am even poor in thanks
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What's brave, what's noble, let's do it after the Roman fashion.
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Crack'd in pieces by malignant Death.
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What light through yonder window breaks?
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Thus die I, thus, thus, thus. Now am I dead, Now am I fled My soul is in the sky: Tongue, lose thy light Moon take thy flight. Now die, die, die, die, die.
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Beshrew the heart that makes my heart to groan.
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We suffer a lot the few things we lack and we enjoy too little the many things we have.
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