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Men's faults do seldom to themselves appear.
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
Appear
Faults
Men
Seldom
More quotes by William Shakespeare
But let the frame of things disjoint, both the worlds suffer, Ere we will eat our meal in fear, and sleep In the affliction of these terrible dreams That shake us nightly.
William Shakespeare
Oppose not rage while rage is in its force, but give it way a while and let it waste.
William Shakespeare
Nay, do not think I flatter. For what advancement may I hope from thee, That no revenue hast but thy good spirits To feed and clothe thee? Why should the poor be flattered?
William Shakespeare
No metal can--no, not the hangman's axe--bear half the keenness of thy sharp envy.
William Shakespeare
And where the offense is, let the great axe fall.
William Shakespeare
Drink down all unkindness.
William Shakespeare
Two lovely berries moulded on one stem So, with two seeming bodies, but one heart.
William Shakespeare
Come what sorrow can, It cannot countervail the exchange of joy, That one short minute gives me in her sight
William Shakespeare
Out of this nettle - danger - we pluck this flower - safety.
William Shakespeare
Nay, had I pow'r, I should Pour the sweet milk of concord into hell, Uproar the universal peace, confound All unity on earth.
William Shakespeare
All impediments in fancy's course Are motives of more fancy.
William Shakespeare
Truth hath a quiet breast.
William Shakespeare
I say, without characters, fame lives long.
William Shakespeare
Great floods have flown From simple sources.
William Shakespeare
You have too much respect upon the world They lose it that do buy it with much care
William Shakespeare
Trust not my reading, nor my observations, Which with experimental seal do warrant The tenor of my book.
William Shakespeare
Poor Desdemona! I am glad thy father's dead. Thy match was mortal to him, and pure grief Shore his old thread in twain.
William Shakespeare
For conspiracy, I know not how it tastes, though it be dished For me to try how.
William Shakespeare
That is honor's scorn Which challenges itself as honor's born And is not like the sire. Honors thrive When rather from our acts we them derive Than our foregoers.
William Shakespeare
Silence is the perfect herald of joy.
William Shakespeare
