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Away, you mouldy rogue, away!
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
Mouldy
Rogue
Sassy
Rogues
Away
More quotes by William Shakespeare
Sir, in my heart there was a kind of fighting That would not let me sleep.
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So all my best is dressing old words new.
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Is this the generation of love? Hot blood, hot thoughts and hot deeds? Why, they are vipers. Is love a generation of vipers?
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Lord Bacon told Sir Edward Coke when he was boasting, The less you speak of your greatness, the more shall I think of it.
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Look how the world's poor people are amazed at apparitions, signs and prodigies!
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Fare thee well, king: sith thus thou wilt appear, Freedom lives hence, and banishment is here.
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The poorest service is repaid with thanks.
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Foul words is but foul wind, and foul wind is but foul breath, and foul breath is noisome therefore I will depart unkissed.
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What soilders whey-face? The English for so please you. Take thy face hence.
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I am afeard there are few die well that die in battle, for how can they charitably dispose of anything when blood is their argument?
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The private wound is deepest. O time most accurst, 'Mongst all foes that a friend should be the worst!
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I have of late--but wherefore I know not--lost all my mirth, forgone all custom of exercise.
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I pray you bear me henceforth from the noise and rumour of the field, where I may think the remnant of my thoughts in peace, and part of this body and my soul with contemplation and devout desires.
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What is a man, if his chief good and market of his time be but to sleep and feed? a beast, no more.
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Death lies on her like an untimely frost.
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Sin from thy lips? O trespass sweetly urged! Give me my sin again.
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He knows what it's like to strut and fret his hour upon the stage and then be heard no more.
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I scorn you, scurvy companion.
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You know that love Will creep in service where it cannot go.
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What a terrible era in which idiots govern the blind.
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