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For I can raise no money by vile means. By heaven, I had rather coin my heart, And drop my blood for drachmas
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
Means
Coins
Money
Drop
Mean
Raise
Heart
Raises
Blood
Heaven
Rather
Vile
War
Coin
More quotes by William Shakespeare
Is it not strange that desire should so many years outlive performance?
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An honest tale speeds best being plainly told.
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Where is Polonius? HAMLET In heaven. Send hither to see. If your messenger find him not there, seek him i' th' other place yourself. But if indeed you find him not within this month, you shall nose him as you go up the stairs into the lobby.
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O, I have suffered With those that I saw suffer!
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Holy, fair, and wise is she The heaven such grace did lend her, That she might admired be.
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I think the devil will not have me damned, lest the oil that's in me should set hell on fire.
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The iron tongue of Midnight hath told twelve lovers, to bed 'tis almost fairy time. I fear we shall outstep the coming morn as much as we this night over-watch'd.
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Is not the truth the truth?
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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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Beauty provoketh thieves sooner than gold.
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Loathsome canker lives in sweetest bud.
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And his unkindness may defeat my life, But never taint my love.
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Opinion crowns with an imperial voice.
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Suit the action to the word, the word to the action.
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They met so near with their lips that their breaths embraced together.
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There was never yet philosopher that could endure the toothache patiently
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O, let my books be then the eloquence and dumb presages of my speaking breast.
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O, a kiss Long as my exile, sweet as my revenge! Now, by the jealous queen of heaven, that kiss I carried from thee, dear, and my true lip Hath virgined it e'er since.
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Why, look you, I am whipp'd and scourg'd with rods, Nettled and stung with pismires[nettles], when I hear Of this vile politician, Bolingbroke.
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An honest man, sir, is able to speak for himself, when a knave is not.
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