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Rumor is a pipe Blown by surmises, jealousies, conjectures.
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
Pipe
Conjectures
Jealousies
Rumours
Conjecture
Rumor
Blown
More quotes by William Shakespeare
As true as steel, as plantage to the moon, As sun to day, at turtle to her mate, As iron to adamant, as earth to centre.
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Eternity was in our lips and eyes, Bliss in our brows' bent none our parts so poor But was a race of heaven.
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For my part, if a lie may do thee grace, I'll gild it with the happiest terms I have.
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Experience teacheth that resolution is a sole help in need.
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By medicine life may be prolonged, yet death will seize the doctor too.
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Despair and die. The ghosts
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Men at some time are masters of their fates.
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It is not night when I do see your face.
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His jest will savour but of shallow wit, When thousands weep, more than did laugh at it.
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Then know, that I have little wealth to lose. A man I am, crossed with adversity My riches are these poor habiliments, Of which if you should here disfurnish me, You take the sum and substance that I have.
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I am bewitched with the rogue's company. If the rascal have not given me medicines to make me love him, I'll be hanged.
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Nothing can seem foul to those who win.
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O shame, where is thy blush?
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Like the lily That once was mistress of the field and flourished, I'll hang my head and perish.
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Love goes toward love.
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No deeper wrinkles yet? Hath sorrow struck So many blows upon this face of mine And made no deeper wounds?
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There is little choice in a barrel of rotten apples.
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O, what men dare do! what men may do! what men daily do, not knowing what they do.
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The will is deaf and hears no heedful friends.
William Shakespeare
The tempter or the tempted, who sins most? Ha! Not she: nor doth she tempt: but it is I That, lying by the violet in the sun, Do as the carrion does, not as the flower, Corrupt with virtuous season.
William Shakespeare
