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The words of Mercury are harsh after the songs of Apollo.
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
Words
Song
Mercury
Apollo
Harsh
Songs
Duty
More quotes by William Shakespeare
Nay, do not think I flatter. For what advancement may I hope from thee, That no revenue hast but thy good spirits To feed and clothe thee? Why should the poor be flattered?
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I pray you, do not fall in love with me, for I am falser than vows made in wine.
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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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If thou remeber'st not the slightest folly that ever love did make thee run into, thou hast not lov'd
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He makes a July's day short as December.
William Shakespeare
Nothing 'gainst Times scythe can make defence.
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We make trifles of terrors, Ensconcing ourselves into seeming knowledge, When we should submit ourselves to an unknown fear.
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I am a feather for each wind that blows
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The liquid drops of tears that you have shed Shall come again, transform'd to orient pearl, Advantaging their loan with interest Of ten times double gain of happiness.
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The gaudy, blabbing, and remorseful day Is crept into the bosom of the sea.
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O horror! Horror! Horror! Tongue nor heart Cannot conceive nor name thee!
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Holy, fair, and wise is she The heaven such grace did lend her, That she might admired be.
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If you spend word for word with me, I shall make your wit bankrupt.
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Love's mind of judgment rarely hath a taste: Wings and no eyes figure unheedy haste.
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A little more than kin, and less than kind.
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And to the English court assemble now, From every region, apes of idleness!
William Shakespeare
Then others for breath of words respect, Me for my dumb thoughts, speaking in effect.
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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.
William Shakespeare
To fear the foe, since fear oppresseth strength, Gives, in your weakness, strength unto your foe, And so your follies fight against yourself. Fear, and be slain--so worse can come to fight And fight and die is death destroying death, Where fearing dying pays death servile breath.
William Shakespeare
The soul of this man is his clothes.
William Shakespeare
