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Appetite, a universal wolf.
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
Food
Wolf
Culinary
Appetite
Cooking
Universal
More quotes by William Shakespeare
Because it is a customary cross, As die to love as thoughts, and dreams, and sighs, Wishes, and tears, poor fancy's followers.
William Shakespeare
Remember thee! Ay, thou poor ghost, while memory holds a seat In this distracted globe.
William Shakespeare
I could be well content To entertain the lag-end of my life With quiet hours.
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Master, go on, and I will follow thee To the last gasp with truth and loyalty.
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Leave us to our free election.
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Well, if Fortune be a woman, she's a good wench for this gear.
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My friends were poor, but honest, so's my love.
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Tempt not a desperate man
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The old folk, time's doting chronicles.
William Shakespeare
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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Silence is the perfect herald of joy.
William Shakespeare
Thy friendship makes us fresh.
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You shall more command with years than with your weapons.
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Since mine own doors refuse to entertain me, I'll knock elsewhere, to see if they'll disdain me
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I am disgraced, impeached, and baffled here, Pierced to the soul with slander's venomed spear.
William Shakespeare
Let the sap of reason quench the fire of passion.
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They are hare-brain'd slaves.
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Miracles are ceased and therefore we must needs admit the means, how things are perfected.
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Such an act That blurs the grace and blush of modesty Calls virtue hypocrite takes off the rose From the fair forehead of an innocent love, And sets a blister there makes marriage vows As false as dicers' oaths.
William Shakespeare
On Rumor's tongue continual slanders ride.
William Shakespeare
