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A jest's prosperity lies in the ear Of him that hears it, never in the tongue Of him that makes it.
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
Makes
Never
Jest
Hears
Prosperity
Tongue
Ears
Lies
Lying
More quotes by William Shakespeare
When remedies are past, the griefs are ended By seeing the worst, which late on hopes depended.
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How soar sweet music is, when time is broke, and no proportion kept!
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O momentary grace of mortal men, Which we more hunt for than the grace of God!
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Farewell, good Salisbury, and good luck go with thee!
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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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I do profess to be no less than I seem to serve him truly that will put me in trust: to love him that is honest to converse with him that is wise, and says little to fear judgment to fight when I cannot choose and to eat no fish.
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Well-apparel'd April on the heel Of limping Winter treads.
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Is this a dagger which I see before me, The handle toward my hand?
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Cursed be the hand that made these fatal holes.
William Shakespeare
Beauty is but a vain and doubtful good a shining gloss that fadeth suddenly a flower that dies when it begins to bud a doubtful good, a gloss, a glass, a flower, lost, faded, broken, dead within an hour.
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Infirm of purpose! Give me the daggers: the sleeping and the dead are but as pictures: ‘tis the eye of childhood that fears a painted devil
William Shakespeare
Tis the eye of childhood that fears a painted devil.
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This man, lady, hath robb'd many beasts of their particular additions: he is as valiant as a lion, churlish as the bear, slow as the elephant-a man into whom nature hath so crowded humours that his valour is crush'd into folly, his folly sauced with discretion.
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Captain of our fairy band, Helena is here at hand, And the youth, mistook by me, Pleading for a lover's fee. Shall we their fond pageant see? Lord, what fools these mortals be!
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Don't waste your love on somebody, who doesn't value it.
William Shakespeare
I once did hold it, as our statists do, A baseness to write fair, and labour'd much How to forget that learning but, sir, now It did me yeoman's service.
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Good Hamlet, cast thy nighted colour off ... Do not for ever with thy vailed lids Seek for thy noble father in the dust.
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Let there be gall enough in thy ink, though thou write with a goose-pen, no matter.
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A beggar's book outworths a noble's blood.
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Fight to the last gasp.
William Shakespeare