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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
Love
Delight
Reeks
Loss
Perfumes
Hear
Pleasing
Sound
Perfume
Speak
Mistress
Music
Hath
Wells
Breath
Well
Breaths
More quotes by William Shakespeare
I see a man's life is a tedious one.
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For there was never yet philosoper That could endure the toothache patiently, However they have writ the style of gods, And made a push at chance and sufferance.
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Earth-treading stars that make dark heaven light
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Fair thoughts and happy hours attend on you.
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O, that our fathers would applause our loves, To seal our happiness with hteir consents!
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This world to me is like a lasting storm,Whirring me from my friends.
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Men's eyes were made to look, and let them gaze. I will not budge for no man's pleasure.
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O world, world! thus is the poor agent despised. O traitors and bawds, how earnestly are you set a-work, and how ill requited! Why should our endeavor be so loved, and the performance so loathed?
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Alas, our frailty is the cause , not we! For, such as we are made of, such we be.
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What a pretty thing man is when he goes in his doublet and hose and leaves off his wit!
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Muster your wits stand in your own defence.
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Fishes live in the sea, as men do a-land the great ones eat up the little ones.
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O, this life Is nobler than attending for a check, Richer than doing nothing for a robe, Prouder than rustling in unpaid-for silk: Such pain the cap of him that makes him fine Yet keeps his book uncrossed.
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I had as lief have been myself alone.
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DEMETRIUS Relent, sweet Hermia: and, Lysander, yield Thy crazed title to my certain right. LYSANDER You have her father's love, Demetrius Let me have Hermia's: do you marry him.
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These words are razors to my wounded heart.
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A pair of star-crossed lovers.
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Manhood is melted into courtesies, valor into compliment, and men are only turned into tongue, and trim ones, too.
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Ambition, the soldier's virtue, rather makes choice of loss, than gain which darkens him.
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Who would be so mocked with glory, or to live But in a dream of friendship, To have his pomp and all what state compounds But only painted, like his varnished friends?
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