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This is the very coinage of your brain: this bodiless creation ecstasy.
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
Ecstasy
Creation
Brain
Thinking
Bodiless
Coinage
More quotes by William Shakespeare
There is not one wise man in twenty that will praise himself.
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Past all shame, so past all truth.
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A great cause of the night is lack of the sun.
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The prince of darkness is a gentleman!
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You kiss by th' book.
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Many a man's tongue shakes out his master's undoing.
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Affliction is enamoured of thy parts, And thou art wedded to calamity.
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But yet I'll make assurance double sure, and take a bond of fate: thou shalt not live.
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The fittest time to corrupt a man's wife is when she's fallen out with her husband.
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Men's evil manners live in brass their virtues we write in water.
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While we lie tumbling in the hay.
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Though Fortune's malice overthrow my state, My mind exceeds the compass of her wheel.
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A victory is twice itself when the achiever brings home full numbers.
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Tell me, daughter Juliet, How stands your dispositions to be married It is an honor that I dream not of
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Hereafter, in a better world than this, I shall desire more love and knowledge of you
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My conscience hath a thousand several tongues, And every tongue brings in a several tale, And every tale condemns me for a villain. Perjury, perjury, in the high'st degree Murder, stern murder in the dir'st degree, Throng to the bar, crying all, 'Guilty!, guilty!
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I will be master of what is mine own: She is my goods, my chattels she is my house, My household stuff, my field, my barn, My horse, my ox, my ass, my any thing.
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Thou hast her, France let her be thine, for we Have no such daughter, nor shall ever see That face of hers again. Therefore be gone Without our grace, our love, our benison.
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O thou that dost inhabit in my breast, leave not the mansion so long tenantless lest, growing ruinous, the building fall and leave no memory of what it was!
William Shakespeare
There's small choice in rotten apples.
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