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Death rock me asleep.
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
Asleep
Rock
Rocks
Death
More quotes by William Shakespeare
And then he drew a dial from his poke, And looking with lack-lustre eye, Says very wisely, 'It is ten o'clock: Thus we may see', Quoth he, 'how the world wags: 'Tis but an hour ago since it was nine, And after one hour more 'twill be eleven And so from hour to hour we ripe and ripe, And then from hour to hour we rot and rot.
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How every fool can play upon the word!
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You take my life when you do take the means whereby I live
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A woman that is like a German clock, Still a-repairing, ever out of frame, And never going aright, being a watch, But being watched that it may still go right!
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What's done is done. The joy is in the doing.
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Shall I compare thee to a summer's day? Thou art more lovely and more temperate: Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May, And summer's lease hath all too short a date . . .
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Friendship's full of dregs.
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For to be wise and love exceeds man's might.
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Then love-devouring Death do what he dare.
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What, shall one of us, That struck for the foremost man of all this world But for supporting robbers--shall we now Contaminate our fingers with base bribes, And sell the mighty space of our large honors For so much trash as may be grasped thus?
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There is a tide in the affairs of men
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The common curse of mankind, folly and ignorance, be thine in great revenue!
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Lawn as white as driven snow Cyprus black as e'er was crow Gloves as sweet as damask roses.
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It is war's prize to take all vantages And ten to one is no impeach of valor.
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Nymph, in thy orisons be all my sins remembered!
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I pray thee cease thy counsel, Which falls into mine ears as profitless as water in a sieve.
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In right and service to their noble country.
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Not an angel of the air, Bird melodious or bird fair, Be absent hence!
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Confusion now hath made his masterpiece.
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See what a ready tongue suspicion hath!
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