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Rumour doth double, like the voice and echo, The numbers of the feared.
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
Rumor
Feared
Doth
Echoes
Double
Numbers
Rumour
Voice
Rumours
Like
Echo
More quotes by William Shakespeare
Speak low, if you speak love.
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The villany you teach me I shall execute and it shall go hard but I will better the instruction.
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I would not lose so great an honor As one man more methinks would share with me For the best hope I have.
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The undiscovered country from whose bourn no traveler returns.
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O me, you juggler, you canker-blossom, you thief of love!
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Women may fail when there is no strength in man
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I am never merry when I hear sweet music.
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It's easy for someone to joke about scars if they've never been cut.
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And this, our life, exempt from public haunt, finds tongues in trees, books in the running brooks, sermons in stones, and good in everything.
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The will is deaf and hears no heedful friends.
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O war! thou son of Hell!
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Your bait of falsehood takes this carp of truth.
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Fools are as like husbands as pilchards are to herrings, the husband's the bigger.
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Plenty and peace breed cowards hardness ever of hardiness is mother.
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When griping grief the heart doth wound, and doleful dumps the mind opresses, then music, with her silver sound, with speedy help doth lend redress.
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Is man no more than this? Consider him well. Thou ow'st the worm no silk, the beast no hide, the sheep no wool, the cat no perfume. Here's three on's are sophisticated. Thou art the thing itself unaccommodated man is no more than such a poor, bare, forked animal as thou art.
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Minutes, hours, days, months, and years, Pass'd over to the end they were created, Would bring white hairs unto a quiet grave. Ah, what a life were this!
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When a father gives to his son, both laugh when a son gives to his father, both cry.
William Shakespeare
I am sure, Though you can guess what temperance should be, You know not what it is.
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I durst not laugh for fear of opening my lips and receiving the bad air.
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