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Did he so often lodge in open field, In winter's cold and summer's parching heat, To conquer France, his true inheritance?
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
Fields
Lodges
Cold
Inheritance
Open
Conquer
Often
Heat
True
France
Winter
Field
Summer
Lodge
More quotes by William Shakespeare
That is not the best sermon which makes the hearers go away talking to one another and praising the speaker, but which makes them go away thoughtful and serious, and hastening to be alone.
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If she be fair and wise, fairness and wit, The one's for use, the other useth it.
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Dissembling harlot, thou art false in all!
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When Caesar says, 'Do this', it is performed.
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Many dream not to find, neither deserve, and yet are steeped in favors.
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Where hateful Death put on his ugliest mask.
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Promising is the very air o' the time it opens the eyes of expectation.
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I will be master of what is mine own: She is my goods, my chattels she is my house, My household stuff, my field, my barn, My horse, my ox, my ass, my any thing.
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Why, all delights are vain, but that most vain Which, with pain purchased, doth inherit pain: As, painfully to pore upon a book, To seek the light of truth, which truth the while Doth falsely blind the eyesight of his look.
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One whom the music of his own vain tongue doth ravish like enchanting harmony.
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Thou art an elm, my husband, I a vine, Whose weakness, married to thy stronger state, Makes me with thy strength to communicate.
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Therefore the moon, the governess of floods, Pale in her anger washes all the air, That rheumatic diseases do abound And through this distemperature we see The seasons alter: hoary-headed frosts Fall in the fresh lap of the crimson rose.
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thy wit is a very bitter sweeting it is a most sharp sauce.
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If I were a woman I would kiss as many of you as had beards that pleased me, complexions that liked me and breaths that I defied not
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Macduff: What three things does drink especially provoke? Porter: Marry, sir, nose-painting, sleep, and urine.
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Uneasy lies the head that wears a crown.
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A rotten case abides no handling.
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Preferred three hours quicker over one moment late.
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