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A very ancient and fish-like smell.
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
Fish
Fishes
Smell
Ancient
Like
Tempest
Memorable
More quotes by William Shakespeare
Thus hath the candle sing'd the moth. O these deliberate fools!
William Shakespeare
I love you more than word can wield the matter, Dearer than eye-sight, space and liberty
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Tis in ourselves that we are thus or thus. Our bodies are our gardens to the which our wills are gardeners.
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He that hath the steerage of my course, Direct my sail.
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Can one desire too much of a good thing?
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Ill met by moonlight, proud Titania
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If reasons were as plentiful as blackberries, I would give no man a reason upon compulsion.
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Time's glory is to command contending kings, To unmask falsehood, and bring truth to light.
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Cordelia! stay a little. Ha! What is't thou say'st? Her voice was ever soft.
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Heat not a furnace for your foe so hot that it do singe yourself.
William Shakespeare
Grace me no grace, nor uncle me no uncle I am no traitor's uncle, and that word grace In an ungracious mouth is but profane.
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No worse a husband than the best of men.
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My wits begin to turn.
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He is dead and gone, lady, He is dead and gone At his head a grass-green turf, At his heels a stone.
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That we would do We should do when we would, for this 'would' changes, And hath abatements and delays as many As there are tongues, are hands, are accidents, And then this 'should' is like a spendthrift sigh, That hurts by easing.
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Care I for the limb, the thews, the stature, bulk, and big assemblance of a man! Give me the spirit.
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Death, as the Psalmist saith, is certain to all, all shall die.
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There is a tide in the affairs of men
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Trust not your daughter's minds By what you see them act.
William Shakespeare
I pray you, in your letters, When you shall these unlucky deeds relate, Speak of me as I am nothing extenuate, Nor set down aught in malice. Then must you speak Of one that loved not wisely but too well Of one not easily jealous, but being wrought, Perplexed in the extreme. . .
William Shakespeare
