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And in some perfumes there is more delight than in the breath that from my mistress reeks. I love to hear her speak, yet well I know that music hath a far more pleasing sound.
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
Music
Hath
Wells
Breath
Well
Breaths
Delight
Reeks
Love
Loss
Perfumes
Hear
Pleasing
Sound
Perfume
Speak
Mistress
More quotes by William Shakespeare
A golden mind stoops not to shows of dross.
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I have thrust myself into this maze, Haply to wive and thrive as best I may.
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Art thou not, fatal vision, sensible to feelings as to sight?
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whats here a cup closed in my true loves hand poisin i see hath been his timeless end. oh churl drunk all and left no friendly drop to help me after. i will kiss thy lips some poisin doth hang on them, to help me die with a restorative. thy lips are warm. yea noise then ill be brief oh happy dagger this is thy sheath. there rust and let me die.
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Let each man do his best.
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Knowing I lov'd my books, he furnish'd me From mine own library with volumes that I prize above my dukedom.
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In thy foul throat thou liest.
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Bell, book and candle shall not drive me back, When gold and silver becks me to come on.
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How long a time lies in one little word?
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What I have done is yours what I have to do is yours being part in all I have, devoted yours.
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Patch grief with proverbs.
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Ay, Much is the force of heaven-bred poesy.
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Things are often spoke and seldom meant.
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My mistress' eyes are nothing like the sun
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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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My endeavors Have ever come too short of my desires. Yet filed with my abilities.
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What seest thou else In the dark backward and abysm of time?
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The time is out of joint.
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Come, and take choice of all my library, And so beguile thy sorrow.
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There is no love-broker in the world can more prevail in man's commendation with woman than report of valor.
William Shakespeare
