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Tell me where is fancy bred, Or in the heart, or in the head? How begot, how nourished? Reply, reply. It is engend'red in the eyes, With gazing fed, and fancy dies In the cradle where it lies.
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
Dies
Reply
Lying
Cradle
Feds
Eye
Fancy
Begot
Tell
Red
Shylock
Heart
Lies
Nourished
Head
Bred
Eyes
Gazing
More quotes by William Shakespeare
We know what we are, but know not what we may be.
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Be wise as thou art cruel, do not press My tongue-tied patience with too much disdain: Lest sorrow lend me words and words express, The manner of my pity-wanting pain.
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Do not plunge thyself too far in anger.
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Love thrives not in the heart that shadows dreadeth
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The breach of custom Is breach of all.
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What's brave, what's noble, let's do it after the Roman fashion.
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The nature of bad news affects the teller.
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Crabbed age and youth cannot live together: Youth is full of pleasance, age is full of care.
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Fat paunches have lean pates, and dainty bits Make rich the ribs, but backrout quite the wits.
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I have shot mine arrow o'er the house And hurt my brother.
William Shakespeare
Like as the waves make towards the pebbled shore, So do our minutes hasten to their end Each changing place with that which goes before, In sequent toil all forwards do contend.
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DEMETRIUS Relent, sweet Hermia: and, Lysander, yield Thy crazed title to my certain right. LYSANDER You have her father's love, Demetrius Let me have Hermia's: do you marry him.
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You are not wood, you are not stones, but men And being men, hearing the will of Caesar, It will inflame you, it will make you mad.
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I heard a bustling rumor like a fray, And the wind blows it from the Capitol.
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I have lived long enough. My way of life is to fall into the sere, the yellow leaf, and that which should accompany old age, as honor, love, obedience, troops of friends I must not look to have.
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Have you not love enough to bear with me, when that rash humor which my mother gave me makes me forgetful.
William Shakespeare
On your eyelids crown the god of sleep, Charming your blood with pleasing heaviness, Making such difference 'twixt wake and sleep As is the difference betwixt day and night The hour before the heavenly-harness'd team Begins his golden progress in the east.
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The labor we delight in physics [cures] pain.
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Mine honour is my life both grow in one Take honour from me, and my life is done.
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If there were reason for these miseries, then into limits could I bind my woes. If the winds rages, doth not the sea wax mad, threat'ning the welkin with its big-swoll'n face? And wilt though have a reason for this coil? I am the sea. Hark how her sighs doth blow. She is the weeping welkin, I the earth.
William Shakespeare