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I, thus neglecting worldly ends, all dedicated To closeness and the bettering of my mind.
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
Closeness
Worldly
Memorable
Neglect
Dedicated
Thus
Ends
Bettering
Mind
Neglecting
More quotes by William Shakespeare
Ah me, how weak a thing The heart of woman is!
William Shakespeare
Alack, the night comes on, and the bleak winds Do sorely ruffle for many miles about There's scarce a bush.
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Plenty and peace breed cowards hardness ever of hardiness is mother.
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ROMEO There is thy gold, worse poison to men's souls, Doing more murders in this loathsome world, Than these poor compounds that thou mayst not sell. I sell thee poison thou hast sold me none. Farewell: buy food, and get thyself in flesh. Come, cordial and not poison, go with me To Juliet's grave for there must I use thee.
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Glory is like a circle in the water
William Shakespeare
We do not keep the outward form of order, where there is deep disorder in the mind.
William Shakespeare
What power is it which mounts my love so high, that makes me see, and cannot feed mine eye
William Shakespeare
So we grew together like to a double cherry, seeming parted, but yet an union in partition, two lovely berries molded on one stem.
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Be checked for silence, But never taxed for speech.
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Here's flowers for you Hot lavender, mints, savoury, marjoram The marigold, that goes to bed wi' the sun And with him rises weeping: these are flowers Of middle summer, and I think they are given To men of middle age.
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A true repentance shuns the evil itself, more than the external suffering or the shame.
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It is the witness still of excellency to put a strange face on his own perfection.
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Why, this hath not a finger's dignity.
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Was ever woman in this humour wooed? Was ever woman in this humour won?
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When I bestride him, I soar, I am a hawk: he trots the air the earth sings when he touches it the basest horn of his hoof is more musical than the pipe of Hermes.
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He that is giddy thinks the world turns round.
William Shakespeare
But fish not with this melancholy bait For this fool gudgeon, this opinion.
William Shakespeare
A glooming peace this morning with it brings The sun, for sorrow, will not show his head: Go hence, to have more talk of these sad things Some shall be pardon'd, and some punished: For never was a story of more woe Than this of Juliet and her Romeo.
William Shakespeare
Britain is A world by itself, and we will nothing pay For wearing our own noses.
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They lie deadly that tell you have good faces.
William Shakespeare
