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This fell sergeant, Death, Is strict in his arrest.
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
Fell
Death
Sergeant
Sergeants
Arrest
Strict
More quotes by William Shakespeare
And oftentimes excusing of a fault Doth make the fault the worse by the excuse, As patches set upon a little breach, Discredit more in hiding of the fault Than did the fault before it was so patch'd.
William Shakespeare
Sweetest nut hath sourest rind.
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Is there no pity sitting in the clouds That sees into the bottom of my grief? O sweet my mother, cast me not away! Delay this marriage for a month, a week, Or if you do not, make the bridal bed In that dim monument where Tybalt lies.
William Shakespeare
Tis gold Which buys admittance--oft it doth--yea, and makes Diana's rangers false themselves, yield up This deer to th' stand o' th' stealer: and 'tis gold Which makes the true man kill'd and saves the thief, Nay, sometimes hangs both thief and true man.
William Shakespeare
You cannot call it love, for at your age the heyday in the blood is tame
William Shakespeare
Two lovely berries moulded on one stem So, with two seeming bodies, but one heart.
William Shakespeare
A very little thief of occasion will rob you of a great deal of patience.
William Shakespeare
Bait the hook well. This fish will bite.
William Shakespeare
You are a lover. Borrow Cupid's wings and soar with them above a common bound.
William Shakespeare
O thou that dost inhabit in my breast, leave not the mansion so long tenantless lest, growing ruinous, the building fall and leave no memory of what it was!
William Shakespeare
Hopeless and helpless doth Egeon wend, But to procrastinate his liveless end.
William Shakespeare
Age, I do abhor thee, youth, I do adore thee.
William Shakespeare
And nothing can we call our own but death And that small model of the barren earth Which serves as paste and cover to our bones. For God's sake, let us sit upon the ground And tell sad stories of the death of kings.
William Shakespeare
Boundless intemperance In nature is a tyranny. It hath been Th' untimely emptying of the happy throne And fall of many kings.
William Shakespeare
The instruments of darkness tell us truths.
William Shakespeare
Grace me no grace, nor uncle me no uncle.
William Shakespeare
All impediments in fancy's course Are motives of more fancy.
William Shakespeare
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.
William Shakespeare
The even mead, that erst brought sweetly forth The freckled cowslip, burnet, and green clover, Wanting the scythe, all uncorrected, rank, Conceives by idleness, and nothing teems But hateful docks, rough thistles, kecksies, burrs, Losing both beauty and utility.
William Shakespeare
When we our betters see bearing our woes, We scarcely think our miseries our foes.
William Shakespeare
