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He does me double wrong That wounds me with the flatteries of his tongue.
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
Wounds
Tongue
Wrong
Doe
Flatteries
Flattery
Double
More quotes by William Shakespeare
Mind your speech a little lest you should mar your fortunes.
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The most peerless piece of earth, I think, that e' er the sun shone bright on.
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A man cannot make him laugh but that's no marvel he drinks no wine.... If I had a thousand sons, the first human principle I would teach them should be, to forswear thin potations and to addict themselves to sack.
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Why are our bodies soft, and weak, and smooth But that our soft conditions and our hearts Should well agree with our external parts?
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Devils soonest tempt, resembling spirits of light.
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Be as just and gracious unto me, As I am confident and kind to thee.
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Who are the violets now That strew the lap of the new-come spring?
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I wonder that you will still be talking. Nobody marks you.
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Though I look old, yet I am strong and lusty for in my youth I never did apply hot and rebellious liquors in my blood and did not, with unbashful forehead, woo the means of weakness and debility: therefore my age is as a lusty winter, frosty but kindly.
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Some grief shows much of love, But much of grief shows still some want of wit.
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He that is strucken blind can not forget the precious treasure of his eyesight lost.
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Nature, as it grows again toward earth, is fashioned for the journey, dull and heavy.
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Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?
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I know a place where the wild thyme blows, where oxlips and the nodding violet grows.
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Great men may jest with saints 'tis wit in them But, in the less foul profanation.
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A plague of sighing and grief! It blows a man up like a bladder.
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By God, I cannot flatter, I do defy The tongues of soothers! but a braver place In my heart's love hath no man than yourself. Nay, task me to my word approve me, lord.
William Shakespeare
This is a gift that I have, simple, simple a foolish extravagant spirit full of forms, figures, shapes, objects, ideas, apprehensions, motions, revolutions these are begot in the ventricle of memory, nourished in the womb of pia mater, and delivered upon the mellowing of occasion.
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Such as we are made of, such we be.
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As many arrows, loosed several ways, come to one mark...so many a thousand actions, once afoot, end in one purpose.
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