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Teeth hadst thou in thy head when thou wast born, To signify thou camest to bite the world.
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
Teeth
Thou
Head
Wast
Born
Hadst
World
Signify
Sassy
Bite
Bites
More quotes by William Shakespeare
Though Death be poor, it ends a mortal woe.
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Well, whiles I am a beggar, I will rail, And say there is no sin but to be rich And being rich, my virtue then shall be To say there is no vice but beggary
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But if the while I think on thee, dear friend, All losses are restored and sorrows end.
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Here's flowers for you Hot lavender, mints, savoury, marjoram The marigold, that goes to bed wi' the sun And with him rises weeping: these are flowers Of middle summer, and I think they are given To men of middle age.
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The wind-shak'd surge, with high and monstrous main, Seems to cast water on the burning Bear, And quench the guards of the ever-fixed pole.
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Mend when thou canst be better at thy leisure.
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I heard a bustling rumor like a fray, And the wind blows it from the Capitol.
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I have not slept. Between the acting of a dreadful thing And the first motion, all the interim is Like a phantasma, or a hideous dream: The Genius and the mortal instruments Are then in council and the state of man, Like to a little kingdom, suffers then The nature of an insurrection.
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The evil that men do lives after them the good is oft interred with their bones.
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It was always yet the trick of our English nation, if they have a good thing, to make it too common.
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I am a feather for each wind that blows
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a wild dedication of yourselves To undiscovered waters, undreamed shores.
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O how wretched is that poor man that hangs on princes favors! There is betwixt that smile we would aspire to, that sweet aspect of princes, and their ruin, more pangs and fears than wars or women have, and when he falls, he falls like Lucifer, never to hope again.
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By my soul I swear, there is no power in the tongue of man to alter me.
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This making of Christians will raise the price of hogs.
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Blood will have blood.
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The past is prologue.
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Now I will believe that there are unicorns.
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The miserable have no other medicine But only hope.
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For in that sleep of death what dreams may come.
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