Quote

A man may see how this world goes with no eyes. Look with thine ears: see how yond justice rails upon yon simple thief. Hark, in thine ear: change places and, handy-dandy, which is the justice, which is the thief?

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
Upon
Thief
Eye
Thieves
Change
Ears
Hark
May
Places
Rails
Look
Goes
Dandy
Looks
Justice
Handy
Men
Eyes
Thine
World
Simple
Rail

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I had rather be a dog, and bay the moon, Than such a Roman.
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Ere yet the salt of most unrighteous tears Had left the flushing of her gallèd eyes, She married. O, most wicked speed, to post With such dexterity to incestuous sheets!
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But now behold, In the quick forge and working-house of thought, How London doth pour out her citizens!
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Anger is like A full hot horse, who being allowed his way, Self-mettle tires him.
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New customs, Though they be never so ridiculous (Nay, let em be unmanly), yet are followed.
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He draweth out the thread of his verbosity finer than the staple of his argument.
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Therefore I tell my sorrows to the stones Who, though they cannot answer my distress, Yet in some sort they are better than the tribunes, For that they will not intercept my tale: When I do weep, they humbly at my feet Receive my tears and seem to weep with me And, were they but attired in grave weeds, Rome could afford no tribune like to these.
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He is white-livered and red-faced.
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How quickly nature falls into revolt When gold becomes her object! For this the foolish over-careful fathers Have broke their sleep with thoughts, their brains with care, Their bones with industry.
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You dull ass will not mend his pace with beating.
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I almost die for food, and let me have it!
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And my poor fool is hanged! No, no, no life! Why should a dog, a horse, a rat, have life, And thou no breath at all? Thou'lt come no more, Never, Never, Never, Never, Never! Pray you, undo this button.
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Base is the slave that pays.
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Ingrateful man with liquorish draughts, and morsels unctuous, greases his pure mind that from it all consideration slips.
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The let-alone lies not in your good will.
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O, let me kiss that hand! KING LEAR: Let me wipe it first it smells of mortality.
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What have we here? a man or a fish? dead or alive? A fish: he smells like a fish a very ancient and fishlike smell a kind of not of the newest poor-John. A strange fish!
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Words spoken can not be recalled so think twice before you speak.
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