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The man that hath no music in himself
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
Stratagem
Merchants
Venice
Hath
Philosophical
Musical
Music
Men
Shylock
More quotes by William Shakespeare
There's daggers in men's smiles.
William Shakespeare
Pride went before, ambition follows him.
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Who riseth from a feast With that keen appetite that he sits down?
William Shakespeare
Praising what is lost makes the remembrance dear
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Give me a bowl of wine. I have not that alacrity of spirit Nor cheer of mind that I was wont to have.
William Shakespeare
A lion among ladies is a most dreadful thing.
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Oh, I am fortune's fool!
William Shakespeare
What, can the devil speak true?
William Shakespeare
They have been at a great feast of languages, and stolen the scraps.
William Shakespeare
O madam, my old heart is cracked, it's cracked!
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What thing, in honor, had my father lost, That need to be revived and breathed in me?
William Shakespeare
Well, honor is the subject of my story.
William Shakespeare
If I can catch him once upon the hip, I will feed fat the ancient grudge I bear him.
William Shakespeare
Foul fiend of France and hag of all despite, Encompassed with thy lustful paramours, Becomes it thee to taunt his valiant age And twit with cowardice a man half dead?
William Shakespeare
O for a Muse of fire, that would ascend The brightest heaven of invention, A kingdom for a stage, princes to act And monarchs to behold the swelling scene!
William Shakespeare
Alas, that love, whose view is muffled still, Should without eyes see pathways to his will!
William Shakespeare
My nature is subdued to what it works in, like the dyer's hand.
William Shakespeare
A woman would run through fire and water for such a kind heart.
William Shakespeare
Take her away for she hath lived too long, To fill the world with vicious qualities.
William Shakespeare
My rage is gone, And I am struck with sorrow. Take him up. Help, three o' th' chiefest soldiers I'll be one. Beat thou the drum, that it speaks mournfully, Trail your steel spikes. Though in this city he Hath widowed and unchilded many a one, Which to this hour bewail the injury, Yet he shall have a noble memory. Assist.
William Shakespeare
