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O war! thou son of Hell!
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
Thou
Son
Hell
War
More quotes by William Shakespeare
Thus weary of the world, away she hies, And yokes her silver doves by whose swift aid Their mistress mounted through the empty skies In her light chariot quickly is convey'd Holding their course to Paphos, where their queen Means to immure herself and not be seen.
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And flights of angels sing thee to thy rest!
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I durst not laugh for fear of opening my lips and receiving the bad air.
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Company, villainous company, hath been the spoil of me.
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Ingrateful man with liquorish draughts, and morsels unctuous, greases his pure mind that from it all consideration slips.
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So we grew together like to a double cherry, seeming parted, but yet an union in partition, two lovely berries molded on one stem.
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ROMEO There is thy gold, worse poison to men's souls, Doing more murders in this loathsome world, Than these poor compounds that thou mayst not sell. I sell thee poison thou hast sold me none. Farewell: buy food, and get thyself in flesh. Come, cordial and not poison, go with me To Juliet's grave for there must I use thee.
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Better a little chiding than a great deal of heartbreak.
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There's rosemary and rue. These keep Seeming and savor all the winter long. Grace and remembrance be to you.
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I have shot mine arrow o'er the house And hurt my brother.
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Lives like a drunken sailor on a mast, Ready with every nod to tumble down Into the fatal bowels of the deep.
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They are hare-brain'd slaves.
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He that sleeps feels not the tooth-ache
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Here comes a man of comfort, whose advice Hath often stilled my brawling discontent.
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Temptation is the fire that brings up the scum of the heart.
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You abilities are too infant-like for doing much alone.
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Cowards die many times a brave man dies but once.
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The clamorous owl that nightly hoots and wonders At our quaint spirits.
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Come the three corners of the world in arms, and we shall shock them.
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The private wound is deepest. O time most accurst, 'Mongst all foes that a friend should be the worst!
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