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This is his uncle's teaching, this Worcester, Malevolent to you In all aspects, Which makes him prune himself and bristle up The crest of youth against your dignity.
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
Uncle
Uncles
Aspects
Dignity
Bristle
Aspect
Prune
Youth
Malevolent
Teaching
Prunes
Makes
Crest
More quotes by William Shakespeare
Love's not love When it is mingled with regards that stand Aloof from th' entire point.
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Fear and niceness, the handmaids of all women, or more truly, woman its pretty self.
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The devil is a gentleman.
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Sufferance is the badge of all our tribe.
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This is the short and the long of it.
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Lovers and madmen have such seething brains Such shaping fantasies, that apprehend More than cool reason ever comprehends.
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This thought is as a death.
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Women are not In their best fortunes strong, but want will perjure the ne'er-touched vestal.
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O you beast! I'll so maul you and your toasting-iron, That you shall think the devil is come from hell.
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You undergo too strict a paradox, Striving to make an ugly deed look fair.
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And then he drew a dial from his poke, And looking with lack-lustre eye, Says very wisely, 'It is ten o'clock: Thus we may see', Quoth he, 'how the world wags: 'Tis but an hour ago since it was nine, And after one hour more 'twill be eleven And so from hour to hour we ripe and ripe, And then from hour to hour we rot and rot.
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Eternity was in our lips and eyes.
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Teeth hadst thou in thy head when thou wast born, To signify thou camest to bite the world.
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How poor are they that have not patience! What wound did ever heal but by degrees?
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Cowards die many times before their deaths The valiant never taste of death but once. Of all the wonders that I yet have heard, It seems to me most strange that men should fear Seeing that death, a necessary end, Will come when it will come.
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What ugly sights of death within mine eyes!
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Thanks to men Of noble minds, is honorable meed.
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Through tattered clothes, small vices do appear. Robes and furred gowns hide all.
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Knit your hearts with an unslipping knot.
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Bell, book and candle shall not drive me back, When gold and silver becks me to come on.
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