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Company, villainous company, hath been the spoil of me.
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
Villainous
Spoil
Hath
Company
More quotes by William Shakespeare
Retire me to my Milan, where Every third thought shall be my grave.
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Do not, as some ungracious pastors do, Show me the steep and thorny way to heaven Whilst, like a puff'd and reckless libertine, Himself the primrose path of dalliance treads And recks not his own read.
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The violence of either grief or joy, their own enactures with themselves destroy.
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The love of wicked men converts to fear That fear to hate, and hate turns one or both To worthy danger and deserved death.
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The small amount of foolery wise men have makes a great show.
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There's no better sign of a brave mind than a hard hand.
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A man can die but once.
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How many things by season seasoned are To their right praise and true perfection!
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Your praises will become your wages.
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I am thy father's spirit Doom'd for a certain term to walk the night And, for the day, confin'd to fast in fires, Till the foul crimes, done in my days of nature, Are burnt and purg'd away.
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Be wise as thou art cruel, do not press My tongue-tied patience with too much disdain: Lest sorrow lend me words and words express, The manner of my pity-wanting pain.
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The teeming Autumn big with rich increase, bearing the wanton burden of the prime like widowed wombs after their lords decease.
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And will he not come again? And will he not come again? No, no, he is dead. Go to thy deathbed. He never will come again.
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There is no such sport as sport by sport o'erthrown.
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Alas, how love can trifle with itself!
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Murder most foul, as in the best it it But this most foul, strange, and unnatural.
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All is well ended if this suit be won. That you express content which we will pay, With strife to please you, day exceeding day.
William Shakespeare
Men's evil manners live in brass their virtues we write in water.
William Shakespeare
This cold night will turn us all to fools and madmen.
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Nay, we must think men are not gods, Nor of them look for such observancy As fits the bridal.
William Shakespeare
