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If by chance I talk a little wild, forgive me I had it from my father.
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
Littles
Little
Forgive
Forgiving
Wild
Talk
Chance
Father
More quotes by William Shakespeare
The third day comes a frost, a killing frost.
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The fear's as bad as falling.
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This is the very ecstasy of love, whose violent property ordoes itself and leads the will to desperate undertakings.
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Trust not my reading, nor my observations, Which with experimental seal do warrant The tenor of my book.
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I am giddy, expectation whirls me round. The imaginary relish is so sweet That it enchants my sense.
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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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To move is to stir, and to be valiant is to stand therefore, if tou art mov'd, thou runst away. (To be angry is to move, to be brave is to stand still. Therefore, if you're angry, you'll run away.)
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Thus hath the candle sing'd the moth. O these deliberate fools!
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Who can control his fate?
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He's loved of the distracted multitude, who like not in their judgement, but their eyes.
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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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We are not ourselves When nature, being oppressed, commands the mind To suffer with the body.
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O world, world! thus is the poor agent despised. O traitors and bawds, how earnestly are you set a-work, and how ill requited! Why should our endeavor be so loved, and the performance so loathed?
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A fool's bolt is soon shot.
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Thou whoreson zed! Thou unnecessary letter! My lord, if you will give me leave, I will tread this unbolted villain into mortar, and daub the wall of a jakes with him. *all cheer for Shakespearean insults*
William Shakespeare
If she lives till doomsday, she'll burn a week longer than the whole world.
William Shakespeare
From you have I been absent in the spring, When proud pied April, dressed in all his trim, Hath put a spirit of youth in every thing.
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Up and down, up and down I will lead them up and down I am feared in field in town Goblin, lead them up and down
William Shakespeare
Their lips were four red roses on a stalk.
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For such things as you, I can scarce think there's any, ye're so slight.
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