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Thy food is such As hath been belch'd on by infected lungs.
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
Belch
Infected
Sassy
Colossal
Lungs
Hath
Food
More quotes by William Shakespeare
Thanks, sir all the rest is mute.
William Shakespeare
So now I have confessed that he is thine, And I my self am mortgaged to thy will, My self I'll forfeit, so that other mine, Thou wilt restore to be my comfort still.
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What fates impose, that men must needs abide it boots not to resist both wind and tide.
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In nature there's no blemish but the mind. None can be called deformed but the unkind.
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Take her away for she hath lived too long, To fill the world with vicious qualities.
William Shakespeare
In limited professions there's boundless theft.
William Shakespeare
Though inclination be as sharp as will, My stronger guilt defeats my strong intent, And, like a man to double business bound, I stand in pause where I shall first begin, And both neglect.
William Shakespeare
Conscience doth make cowards of us all.
William Shakespeare
In the night, imagining some fear, How easy is a bush supposed a bear!
William Shakespeare
The quality of nothing hath not such need to hide itself
William Shakespeare
Some say that ever 'gainst the season comes Wherein our Saviour's birth is celebrated, The bird of dawning singeth all night long: And then, they say, no spirit can walk abroad The nights are wholesome then no planets strike, No fairy takes, nor wi
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Time doth transfix the flourish set on youth And delves the parallels in beauty's brow.
William Shakespeare
To fear the foe, since fear oppresseth strength, gives in your weakness strength unto your foe.
William Shakespeare
Well could he ride, and often men would say, That horse his mettle from his rider takes: Proud of subjection, noble by the sway, What rounds, what bounds, what course, what stop he makes! And controversy hence a question takes, Whether the horse by him became his deed, Or he his manage by the well-doing steed.
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Heaven give you many, many merry days.
William Shakespeare
Thou art thy mother's glass, and she in thee Calls back the lovely April of her prime...
William Shakespeare
No doubt they rose up early to observe the rite of May and, hearing our intent, Came here in grace of our solemnity.
William Shakespeare
Methinks you are my glass, and not my brother: I see by you I am a sweet-faced youth.
William Shakespeare
Tired with all these for restful death I cry, As to behold desert a beggar born, And needy nothing trimmed in jollity, And purest faith unhappily forsworn.
William Shakespeare
The king hath note of all that they intend, by interception which they dream not of.
William Shakespeare