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Hamlet: Is this a prologue, or the posy of a ring? Ophelia: 'Tis brief, my lord. Hamlet: As woman's love.
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
Brief
Ring
Rings
Posy
Lord
Posies
Woman
Prologue
Love
Ophelia
Hamlet
Jewelry
More quotes by William Shakespeare
Hang there like fruit, my soul, Till the tree die!
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O, a kiss Long as my exile, sweet as my revenge! Now, by the jealous queen of heaven, that kiss I carried from thee, dear, and my true lip Hath virgined it e'er since.
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She lov'd me for the dangers I had pass'd, And I lov'd her that she did pity them
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The fool multitude, that choose by show, not learning more than the fond eye doth teach.
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Let the doors be shut upon him, that he may play the fool no where but in's own house.
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We are such stuff that dreams are made of.
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For where thou art, there is the world itself, With every several pleasure in the world, And where thou art not, desolation.
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How wayward is this foolish love that, like a testy babe, will scratch the nurse and presently, all humble, kiss the rod.
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Up and down, up and down I will lead them up and down I am feared in field in town Goblin, lead them up and down
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The undeserver may sleep when the man of action is called on.
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It is the stars, The stars above us, govern our conditions.
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The day shall not be up so soon as I, To try the fair adventure of tomorrow.
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I'll be supposed upon a book, his face is the worst thing about him.
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Is this a vision? Is this a dream? Do I sleep?
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There is a kind of character in thy life, That to the observer doth thy history, fully unfold.
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The arms are fair, When the intent of bearing them is just.
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The seasons alter: hoary-headed frosts Fall in the fresh lap of the crimson rose, And on old Hiems' thin and icy crown An odorous chaplet of sweet summer buds Is, as in mockery, set. The spring, the summer, The childing autumn, angry winter, change Their wonted liveries, and the mazed world, By their increase, now knows not which is which.
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Unbidden guests Are often welcomest when they are gone.
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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
Though I look old, yet I am strong and lusty for in my youth I never did apply hot and rebellious liquors in my blood and did not, with unbashful forehead, woo the means of weakness and debility: therefore my age is as a lusty winter, frosty but kindly.
William Shakespeare
