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Instinct is a great matter. I was now a coward on instinct.
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
Great
Coward
Instinct
Matter
More quotes by William Shakespeare
Thou unfit for any place but hell.
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The prize of all too precious you.
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A heavier task could not have been impos'd, Than I to speak my griefs unspeakable.
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Honesty is not the best policy - merely the safest
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He lives in fame that died in virtue's cause.
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Promising is the very air o' the time it opens the eyes of expectation.
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I would fain die a dry death.
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Winding up days with toil and nights with sleep.
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Honor, riches, marriage-blessing Long continuance, and increasing, Hourly joys be still upon you!
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When Caesar says, 'Do this', it is performed.
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You know that love Will creep in service where it cannot go.
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Join not with grief, fair woman, do not so, To make my end too sudden.
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So weary with disasters, tugg'd with fortune, That I would set my life on any chance, To mend, or be rid on't.
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Thrust your head into the public street, to gaze on Christian fools with varnish'd faces.
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To move is to stir, and to be valiant is to stand therefore, if tou art mov'd, thou runst away. (To be angry is to move, to be brave is to stand still. Therefore, if you're angry, you'll run away.)
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The color of the king doth come and go, Between his purpose and his conscience, Like heralds 'twixt two dreadful battles set: His passion is so ripe, it needs must break.
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Reputation, reputation, reputation! O, I ha' lost my reputation, I ha' lost the immortal part of myself, and what remains is bestial!
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So many horrid Ghosts.
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Therefore I tell my sorrows to the stones Who, though they cannot answer my distress, Yet in some sort they are better than the tribunes, For that they will not intercept my tale: When I do weep, they humbly at my feet Receive my tears and seem to weep with me And, were they but attired in grave weeds, Rome could afford no tribune like to these.
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Corruption wins not more than honesty.
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