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Costly thy habit [dress] as thy purse can buy But not expressed in fancy - rich, not gaudy. For the apparel oft proclaims the man.
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
Dresses
Gaudy
Habit
Apparel
Rich
Purse
Men
Costly
Purses
Expressed
Fancy
Dress
Proclaims
More quotes by William Shakespeare
Best men oft are moulded out of faults.
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What fates impose, that men must needs abide it boots not to resist both wind and tide.
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I'll privily away I love the people, But do not like to stage me to their eyes Though it do well, I do not relish well Their loud applause and aves vehement, Nor do I think the man of safe discretion That does not affect it.
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O! Let me not be mad, not mad, sweet heaven keep me in temper I would not be mad!
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For I have neither wit, nor words, nor worth, Action, nor utterance, nor the power of speech, To stir men's blood: I only speak right on I tell you that which you yourselves do know.
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I have very poor and unhappy brains for drinking.
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Ay, but to die, and go we know not where.
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Opinion crowns with an imperial voice.
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I am not of that feather, to shake off my friend when he must need me
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Your if is the only peacemaker much virtue in if.
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You are not worth the dust which the rude wind Blows in your face.
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I dare do all that may become a man Who dares do more, is none
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Tis mad idolatry To make the service greater than the god.
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The bird that hath been limed in a bush, with trembling wings misdoubteth every bush.
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If thou remeber'st not the slightest folly that ever love did make thee run into, thou hast not lov'd
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In thy youth wast as true a lover, As ever sighed upon a midnight pillow
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Where the greater malady is fixed, The lesser is scarce felt.
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The bitter past, more welcome is the sweet.
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Glory is like a circle in the water, which never ceaseth to enlarge itself, till, by broad spreading, it disperse to naught.
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in black ink my love may still shine bright.
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