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Vile worm, thou wast o'erlook'd even in thy birth.
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
Wast
Sassy
Vile
Worm
Worms
Thou
Birth
Even
More quotes by William Shakespeare
More of your conversation would infect my brain.
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Poor wretches that depend On greatness' favor, dream as I have done Wake, and find nothing.
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My pride fell with my fortunes.
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The loyalty, well held to fools, does make Our faith mere folly.
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A golden mind stoops not to shows of dross.
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The Eyes are the window to your soul
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I am not yet of Percy's mind, the Hotspur of the North he that kills me some six or seven dozen of Scots as a breakfast, washes his hands, and says to his wife, 'Fie upon this quiet life! I want work.
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Good morrow, 'tis Saint Valentine's Day, All in the morn betime, And I a maid at your window, To be your valentine.
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To be generous, guiltless, and of a free disposition is to take those things for bird-bolts that you deem cannon-bullets.
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Keep thy friend Under thy own life's key.
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Love comforteth like sunshine after rain, But Lust's effect is tempest after sun Love's gentle spring doth always fresh remain, Lust's winter comes ere summer half be done Love surfeits not, Lust like a glutton dies Love is all truth, Lust full of forged lies.
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I scorn you, scurvy companion.
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Here comes Monseiur Le Beau. Rosalind: With his mouth full of news. Celia: Which he will put on us, as pigeons feed their young. Rosalind: Then shall we be news-crammed. Celia: All the better we shall be the more marketable.
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To be in love- where scorn is bought with groans, Coy looks with heart-sore sighs, one fading moment's mirth With twenty watchful, weary, tedious nights If haply won, perhaps a hapless gain If lost, why then a grievous labour won However, but a folly bought with wit, Or else a wit by folly vanquished.
William Shakespeare
Some are born great, some achieve greatness, and some have greatness thrust upon them.
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Too much to know is to know naught but fame.
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But love that comes too late, Like a remorseful pardon slowly carried, To the great sender turns a sour offense, Crying, 'That's good that's gone.
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Put forth thy hand, reach at the glorious gold.
William Shakespeare
You are strangely troublesome.
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O, she's warm! If this be magic, let it be an art Lawful as eating.
William Shakespeare
