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Mercy but murders, pardoning those that kill.
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
Compassion
Pardoning
Tybalt
Murders
Juliet
Murder
Mercy
Kill
More quotes by William Shakespeare
Your bait of falsehood takes this carp of truth, And thus do we of wisdom and of reach, With windlasses and with assays of bias, By indirections find directions out.
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He's mad that trusts in the tameness of a wolf.
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Against love's fire fear`s frost hath dissolution
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Remember thee! Ay, thou poor ghost, while memory holds a seat In this distracted globe.
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The amity that wisdom knits not, folly may easily untie.
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Rest you fair, good signior Your worship was the last man in our mouths.
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Gold--what can it not do, and undo?
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Like as the waves make towards the pebbl'd shore, so do our minutes, hasten to their end.
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A blind man can't forget the eyesight he lost, show me any beautiful girl. How can her beauty not remind me of the one whose beauty surpasses hers?
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Fools are not mad folks.
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Lawn as white as driven snow Cyprus black as e'er was crow Gloves as sweet as damask roses.
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But when I came, alas, to wive, With hey, ho, the wind and the rain, By swaggering could I never thrive, For the rain it raineth every day.
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Who alone suffers suffers most i' th' mind, Leaving free things and happy shows behind But then the mind much sufferance doth o'erskip When grief hath mates, and bearing fellowship.
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'Tis dangerous to take a cold, to sleep, to drink but I tell you, my lord fool, out of this nettle, danger, we pluck this flower, safety.
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There's some ill planet reigns: I must be patient till the heavens look With an aspect more favourable.
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Wish chastely, and love dearly.
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Tis not the many oaths that make the truth But the plain single vow, that is vow'd true.
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For now they kill me with a living death.
William Shakespeare
Fairies, black, grey, green, and white, You moonshine revellers, and shades of night, You orphan heirs of fixed destiny, Attend your office and your quality.
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Ring the alarum-bell! Blow, wind! come, wrack! At least we'll die with harness on our back.
William Shakespeare