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Now see that noble and most sovereign reason, Like sweet bells jangled, out of tune and harsh.
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
Tunes
Noble
Sweet
Law
Reason
Tune
Like
Bells
Harsh
Sovereign
More quotes by William Shakespeare
Vice repeated is like the wandering wind, blows dust in others' eyes to spread itself.
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Let every man be master of his time.
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I scorn you, scurvy companion.
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Beware the leader who bangs the drums of war in order to whip the citizenry into a patriotic fervor.
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Thou canst not speak of what thou dost not feel.
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Some there be that shadows kiss Such have but a shadow's bliss.
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Nothing teems But hateful docks, rough thistles, kecksies, burs, Losing both beauty and utility.
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Thou whoreson zed! Thou unnecessary letter! My lord, if you will give me leave, I will tread this unbolted villain into mortar, and daub the wall of a jakes with him. *all cheer for Shakespearean insults*
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Bounty, being free itself, thinks all others so.
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Until I know this sure uncertainty, I'll entertain the offered fallacy.
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O God, that men should put an enemy in their mouths to steal away their brains! - Cassio (Act II, Scene iii)
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As you are old and reverend, you should be wise.
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Highly fed and lowly taught.
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There are no tricks in plain and simple faith.
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Hal, if I tell thee a lie, spit in my face, call me horse.
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Till our King Henry had shook hands with Death.
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Come not within the measure of my wrath.
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Music can minister to minds diseased, pluck from the memory a rooted sorrow, raze out the written troubles of the brain, and with its sweet oblivious antidote, cleanse the full bosom of all perilous stuff that weighs upon the heart.
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When you do dance, I wish you a wave o' the sea, that you might ever do nothing but that.
William Shakespeare
Here's flowers for you Hot lavender, mints, savoury, marjoram The marigold, that goes to bed wi' the sun And with him rises weeping: these are flowers Of middle summer, and I think they are given To men of middle age.
William Shakespeare
