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What: is the jay more precious than the lark because his feathers are more beautiful?
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
Precious
Creatures
Animal
Beautiful
Lark
Taming
Larks
Feathers
More quotes by William Shakespeare
Fair Katherine, and most fair, Will you vouchsafe to teach a soldier terms Such as will enter at a lady's ear, And plead his love-suit to her gentle heart?
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One sin, I know, another doth provoke. Murder's as near to lust as flame to smoke.
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And oftentimes excusing of a fault doth make the fault the worse by the excuse.
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When thou cam'st first, Thou strok'st me and made much of me wouldst give me Water with berries in't and teach me how To name the bigger light, and how the less, That burn by day and night and then I loved thee And showed thee all the qualities o' th' isle, The fresh springs, brine-pits, barren place and fertile.
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Dissembling courtesy! How fine this tyrant can trickle when she wounds!
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O fortune, fortune! all men call thee fickle.
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Brevity is the soul of wit.
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What, with my tongue in your tail? nay, come again, Good Kate I am a gentleman.
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Now, my masters, happy man be his dole, say I every man to his business.
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Death is a fearful thing.
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Nymph, in thy orisons be all my sins remembered!
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Men's vows are women's traitors
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I have seen roses damask'd, red and white, But no such roses see I in her cheeks.
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All of Creation’s a farce. Man was born as a joke. In his head his reason is buffeted Like wind-blown smoke. Life is a game. Everyone ridicules everyone else. But he who has the last laugh Laughs longest.
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Things at the worst will cease or else climb upward To what they were before.
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For this relief, much thanks
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Weed your better judgments of all opinion that grows rank in them.
William Shakespeare
For this relief much thanks. 'Tis bitter cold, and I am sick at heart.
William Shakespeare
Two lovely berries moulded on one stem So, with two seeming bodies, but one heart.
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What we determine we often break. Purpose is but the slave to memory.
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