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I have full cause of weeping, but this heart shall break into a hundred thousand flaws or ere I'll weep.
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
Heart
Cry
Hundred
Cause
Thousand
Cordelia
Shall
Lear
Full
Weep
Causes
Weeping
Break
Flaws
More quotes by William Shakespeare
Tis a cruelty to load a fallen man.
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Give every man thy ear, but few thy voice.
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Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player, that struts and frets his hour upon the stage, and then is heard no more it is a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing.
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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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The extreme parts of time extremely forms all causes to the purpose of his speed.
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And thus I clothe my naked villainy With odd old ends stol'n out of holy writ And seem a saint, when most I play the devil.
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We must not make a scarecrow of the law, Setting it up to fear the birds of prey, And let it keep one shape till custom make it Their perch, and not their terror.
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Be wary then best safety lies in fear.
William Shakespeare
To persist in doing wrong extenuates not the wrong, but makes it much more heavy.
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There are many events in the womb of time which will be delivered.
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There's beggary in love that can be reckoned
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My cake is dough, but I'll in among the rest, Out of hope of all but my share of the feast.
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Greatness knows itself.
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Heat not a furnace for your foe so hot that it do singe yourself.
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Being daily swallowed by men's eyes, They surfeited with honey and began To loathe the taste of sweetness, whereof a little More than a little is by much too much. So, when he had occasion to be seen, He was but as the cuckoo is in June. Heard, not regarded.
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Give me my robe, put on my crown I have Immortal longings in me.
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My language! heavens!I am the best of them that speak this speech. Were I but where 'tis spoken.
William Shakespeare
No, no, I am but shadow of myself: You are deceived, my substance is not here.
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Spirits are not finely touched But to fine issues.
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For in the fatness of these pursy times Virtue itself of vice must pardon beg.
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