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You kiss by th' book.
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
Kiss
Kissing
Book
More quotes by William Shakespeare
The stroke of death is as a lover's pinch, which hurts and is desired.
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Look to her, Moor, if thou has eyes to see. She has deceived her father, and may thee.
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Do as the heavens have done, forget your evil With them forgive yourself.
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Be wary then best safety lies in fear.
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Withal I did infer your lineaments, Being the right idea of your father, Both in your form and nobleness of mind Laid open all your victories in Scotland, Your discipline in war, wisdom in peace, Your bounty, virtue, fair humility Indeed, left nothing fitting for your purpose Untouch'd or slightly handled in discourse.
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He draweth out the thread of his verbosity finer than the staple of his argument.
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Nay then, let the devil wear black, for I'll have a suit of sables.
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Learning is but an adjunct to ourself, And where we are our learning likewise is.
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Is not the truth the truth?
William Shakespeare
The cunning livery of hell.
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What is thy sentence then but speechless death.
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Give thanks for what you are today and go on fighting for what you gone be tomorrow
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If you love an addle egg as well as you love an idle head, you would eat chickens i' th' shell.
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Sleep knits up the raveled sleeve of care.
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If thou couldst, doctor, cast The water of my land, find her disease, And purge it to a sound and pristine health, I would applaud thee to the very echo, That should applaud you again.
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I will be brief. Your noble son is mad.
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Who riseth from a feast With that keen appetite that he sits down?
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A ministering angel shall my sister be.
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O serpent heart hid with a flowering face! Did ever a dragon keep so fair a cave? Beautiful tyrant, feind angelical, dove feather raven, wolvish-ravening lamb! Despised substance of devinest show, just opposite to what thou justly seemest - A dammed saint, an honourable villain!
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The sweetest honey Is loathsome in his own deliciousness, And in the taste confounds the appetite: Therefore love moderately— long love doth so.
William Shakespeare
