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O mischief, thou art swift to enter in the thoughts of desperate men!
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
Enter
Thou
Thoughts
Art
Swift
Men
Mischief
Tempted
Desperate
Temptation
More quotes by William Shakespeare
That strain again! It had a dying fall: O, it came o'er my ear like the sweet sound That breathes upon a bank of violets, Stealing and giving odour! Enough no more: 'Tis not so sweet as it was before.
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Society is no comfort, to one not sociable.
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All days are nights to see till I see thee, And nights bright days when dreams do show thee me.
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A sympathy in choice.
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If thou dost love, proclaim it faithfully.
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A man may fish with the worm that hath eat of a king, and eat of the fish that hath fed of that worm
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And thou, all-shaking thunder, Strike flat the thick rotundity o' the world! Crack nature's moulds, all germens spill at once That makes ingrateful man!
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Methinks a father Is at the nuptial of his son a guest That best becomes the table.
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For you and I are past our dancing days.
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Is love a tender thing? It is too rough, too rude, too boisterous, and it pricks like thorn.
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With mirth in funeral and with dirge in marriage.
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O, let my books be then the eloquence and dumb presages of my speaking breast.
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All of Creation’s a farce. Man was born as a joke. In his head his reason is buffeted Like wind-blown smoke. Life is a game. Everyone ridicules everyone else. But he who has the last laugh Laughs longest.
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Commit the oldest sins the newest kind of ways.
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O world, how apt the poor are to be proud!
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There's daggers in men's smiles.
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Let the galled jade wince our withers are unwrung.
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The crow doth sing as sweetly as the lark When neither is attended and I think The nightingale, if she should sing by day When every goose is cackling, would be thought No better a musician than the wren. How many thing by season seasoned are To their right praise and true perfection!
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A light heart lives long.
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