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I hold it cowardice To rest mistrustful where a noble heart Hath pawned an open hand in sign of 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
Open
Distrust
Hands
Cowardice
Heart
Hath
Love
Sign
Noble
Hold
Rest
Hand
More quotes by William Shakespeare
The private wound is deepest. O time most accurst, 'Mongst all foes that a friend should be the worst!
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Policy sits above conscience.
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O God, I could be bound in a nutshell, and count myself a king of infinite space – were it not that I have bad dreams.
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Wisdom and goodness to the vile seem vile Filths savour but themselves.
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This day's black fate on more days doth depend This but begins the woe, others must end.
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Courage and comfort, all shall yet go well
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You speak like a green girl / unsifted in such perilous circumstances.
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I do repent but heaven hath pleas'd it so To punish me with this, and this with me, That I must be their scourge and minister. I will bestow him, and will answer well The death I gave him. So again good night. I must be cruel only to be kind. Thus bad begins and worse remains behind.
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I do oppose My patience to his fury, and am arm'd To suffer, with a quietness of spirit, The very tyranny and rage of his.
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I hold the world but as the world, Gratiano!
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In a false quarrel there is no true valor.
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Tis not the many oaths that make the truth But the plain single vow, that is vow'd true.
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He does me double wrong That wounds me with the flatteries of his tongue.
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Last scene of all that ends this strange, eventful history, is second childishness and mere oblivion. I am sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything.
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With love's light wings did I o'er-perch these walls, for stony limits cannot hold love out
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Sir, the year growing ancient, Not yet on summer's death nor on the birth Of trembling winter, the fairest flowers o' th' season Are our carnations and streaked gillyvors, Which some call nature's bastards.
William Shakespeare
I thank God I am as honest as any man living that is an old man and no honester than I.
William Shakespeare
Then love-devouring Death do what he dare.
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You have witchcraft in your lips
William Shakespeare
The painful warrior famous for fight, After a thousand victories, once foil'd, Is from the books of honor razed quite, And all the rest forgot for which he toil'd
William Shakespeare
