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Though Death be poor, it ends a mortal woe.
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
Mortals
Though
Poor
Death
Ends
Woe
Mortal
More quotes by William Shakespeare
He's loved of the distracted multitude, who like not in their judgement, but their eyes.
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Thou sodden-witted lord! thou hast no more brain than I have in mine elbows.
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Ten masts make not the altitude Which thou hast perpendicularly fell. Thy life's a miracle.
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Honesty is not the best policy - merely the safest
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Stars, hide your fires Let not light see my black and deep desires.
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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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Now see that noble and most sovereign reason, Like sweet bells jangled, out of tune and harsh.
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Love is blind, it stops lovers seeing the silly things they do.
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Thou seest I have more flesh than another man, and therefore more frailty.
William Shakespeare
I am a kind of burr I shall stick.
William Shakespeare
Love's not love When it is mingled with regards that stand Aloof from th' entire point.
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They are but beggars that can count their worth.
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With this special observance, that you o'erstep not the modesty of nature. for anything so overdone is from the purpose of playing, whose end, both at the first and now, was and is, to hold, as 'twere, the mirror up to nature.
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What though care killed a cat, thou hast mettle enough in thee to kill care.
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Thou art most rich, being poor Most choice, forsaken and most lov'd, despis'd! Thee and thy virtues here I seize upon.
William Shakespeare
If thou dost seek to have what thou dost hide, By self-example mayst thou be denied.
William Shakespeare
Thou art a boil, a plague sore, an embossed carbuncle in my corrupted blood.
William Shakespeare
As good luck would have it.
William Shakespeare
Two loves I have, of comfort and despair, Which like two spirits do suggest me still: The better angel is a man right fair, The worser spirit a woman coloured ill.
William Shakespeare
Moderate lamentation is the right of the dead, excessive grief the enemy to the living.
William Shakespeare
