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I have very poor and unhappy brains for drinking.
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
Drinking
Brain
Poor
Brains
Alcohol
Unhappy
More quotes by William Shakespeare
Use every man after his desert, and who should scape whipping?
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What, gone without a word? Ay, so true love should do it cannot speak, For truth hath better deeds than words to grace it.
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From you have I been absent in the spring, When proud pied April, dressed in all his trim, Hath put a spirit of youth in every thing.
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Benvolio- By my head, here come the Capulets. Mercutio- By my heel, I care not.
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Like a dull actor now, I have forgot my part, and I am out, Even to a full disgrace.
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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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How easy it is for the proper-false in woman's waxen hearts to set their forms!
William Shakespeare
Tell me where is fancy bred, Or in the heart, or in the head? How begot, how nourished? Reply, reply. It is engend'red in the eyes, With gazing fed, and fancy dies In the cradle where it lies.
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So many hours must I take my rest So many hours must I contemplate.
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There's nothing ill can dwell in such a temple. If the ill spirit have so fair a house, Good things will strive to dwell with't
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Age cannot wither her, nor custom stale Her infinite variety.
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There are a sort of men, whose visages Do cream and mantle, like a standing pond And do a willful stillness entertain, With purpose to be dressed in an opinion Of wisdom, gravity profound conceit As who should say, I am sir Oracle, And when I ope my lips, let no dog bark!
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Tis gold Which buys admittance--oft it doth--yea, and makes Diana's rangers false themselves, yield up This deer to th' stand o' th' stealer: and 'tis gold Which makes the true man kill'd and saves the thief, Nay, sometimes hangs both thief and true man.
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O wretched state! O bosom black as death! O limed soul that, struggling to be free, art more engaged! Help, angels! Make assay! Bow, stubborn knees! and, heart with strings of steel, be soft as sinews of the new-born babe!
William Shakespeare
What our contempts do often hurl from us, We wish it ours again.
William Shakespeare
Is twenty hundred kisses such a trouble?
William Shakespeare
Madam, you have bereft me of all words, Only my blood speaks to you in my veins.
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Neither a borrower nor a lender be.
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I hope to see London once ere I die.
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O, reason not the need!
William Shakespeare
