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Let witchcraft join with beauty, lust with both!
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
Join
Lust
Beauty
Witchcraft
More quotes by William Shakespeare
I do know when the blood burns, how prodigal the soul lends the tongue vows.
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Be not afeard the isle is full of noises.
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Oh, flatter me for love delights in praises.
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I'll privily away I love the people, But do not like to stage me to their eyes Though it do well, I do not relish well Their loud applause and aves vehement, Nor do I think the man of safe discretion That does not affect it.
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For now they kill me with a living death.
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By that sin fell the angels.
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There's no art to find the mind's construction in the face.
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What my tongue dares not that my heart shall say
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We cannot all be masters, nor all masters Cannot be truly followed.
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Let him smell his way to Dover!
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Vile worm, thou wast o'erlook'd even in thy birth.
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Cursed be he that moves my bones.
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Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more Or close the wall up with our English dead! In peace there's nothing so becomes a man As modest stillness and humility: But when the blast of war blows in our ears, Then imitate the action of the tiger.
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But thou, contracted to thine own bright eyes, Feed'st thy light's flame with self-substantial fuel, Making a famine where abundance lies, Thyself thy foe, to thy sweet self too cruel.
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Confess yourself to heaven, Repent what's past, avoid what is to come, And do not spread the compost on the weeds To make them ranker.
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I thank God I am as honest as any man living that is an old man and no honester than I.
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I'll be damned for never a king's son in Christendom.
William Shakespeare
I see you stand like greyhounds in the slips, Straining upon the start. The game's afoot Follow your spirit: and upon this charge, Cry — God for Harry! England and Saint George!
William Shakespeare
What our contempts do often hurl from us, We wish it ours again.
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O' What may man within him hide, though angel on the outward side!
William Shakespeare
