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This night I hold an old accustomed feast, Whereto I have invited many a guest, Such as I love and you among the store, One more, most welcome, makes my number more.
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
Love
Welcome
Whereto
Number
Feast
Among
Guest
Hold
Accustomed
Numbers
Guests
Makes
Invited
Night
Store
Many
Stores
More quotes by William Shakespeare
The robbed that smiles, steals something from the thief.
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Tis the times' plague, when madmen lead the blind.
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If love be blind, it best agrees with night
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A lover goes toward his beloved as enthusiastically as a schoolboy leaving his books, but when he leaves his girlfriend, he feels as miserable as the schoolboy on his way to school. (Act 2, scene 2)
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Every why has a wherefore.
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Thou hast nor youth nor age But as it were an after dinner sleep Dreaming of both.
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He that is thy friend indeed, he will help you in your need.
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Tis gold Which buys admittance--oft it doth--yea, and makes Diana's rangers false themselves, yield up This deer to th' stand o' th' stealer: and 'tis gold Which makes the true man kill'd and saves the thief, Nay, sometimes hangs both thief and true man.
William Shakespeare
Now stand you on the top of happy hours, And many maiden gardens yet unset, With virtuous wish would bear you living flowers, Much liker than your painted counterfeit: So should the lines of life that life repair Which this, Time's pencil, or my pupil pen Neither in inward worth nor outward fair Can make you live your self in eyes of men.
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A sentence is but a cheveril glove to a good wit How quickly the wrong side may be turned outward!
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Withal I did infer your lineaments, Being the right idea of your father, Both in your form and nobleness of mind Laid open all your victories in Scotland, Your discipline in war, wisdom in peace, Your bounty, virtue, fair humility Indeed, left nothing fitting for your purpose Untouch'd or slightly handled in discourse.
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If I may trust the flattering truth of sleep, My dreams presage some joyful news at hand. My bosom's lord sits lightly in his throne, And all this day an unaccustomed spirit Lifts me above the ground with cheerful thoughts.
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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.
William Shakespeare
Alas, that love, whose view is muffled still, Should without eyes see pathways to his will!
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Drink down all unkindness.
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We will all laugh at gilded butterflies.
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They are hare-brain'd slaves.
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Was ever woman in this humour wooed? Was ever woman in this humour won?
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To set a gloss on faint deeds, hollow welcomes, Recanting goodness, sorry ere 'tis shown But where there is true friendship, there needs none.
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Fairies use flowers for their charactery.
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