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Boundless intemperance In nature is a tyranny. It hath been Th' untimely emptying of the happy throne And fall of many kings.
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
Kings
Untimely
Happy
Emptying
Fall
Intemperance
Nature
Throne
Many
Boundless
Thrones
Hath
Tyranny
More quotes by William Shakespeare
You cannot, sir, take from me any thing that I will more willingly part withal: except my life, except my life, except my life.
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Beware the leader who bangs the drums of war in order to whip the citizenry into a patriotic fervor.
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For honesty coupled to beauty, is to have honey a sauce to sugar.
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And it is very much lamented,... That you have no such mirrors as will turn Your hidden worthiness into your eye That you might see your shadow.
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And, looking on it with lack-lustre eye, Says very wisely, It is ten o'clock: Thus we may see, quoth he, how the world wags.
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What are you doing sister? / Killing swine.
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And too soon Marred are those so early Made.
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How now, wit! Whither wander you?
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Beauty's a doubtful good, a glass, a flower, Lost, faded, broken, dead within an hour And beauty, blemish'd once, for ever's lost, In spite of physic, painting, pain, and cost.
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Truth will come to sight murder cannot be hid long.
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I hold it cowardice To rest mistrustful where a noble heart Hath pawned an open hand in sign of love.
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Thou whoreson zed! Thou unnecessary letter! My lord, if you will give me leave, I will tread this unbolted villain into mortar, and daub the wall of a jakes with him. *all cheer for Shakespearean insults*
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I am one, my liege, Whom the vile blows and buffets of the world Have so incensed that I am reckless what I do to spite the world.
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For in the fatness of these pursy times Virtue itself of vice must pardon beg.
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By my troth, I care not a man can die but once we owe God a death and let it go which way it will he that dies this year is quit for the next
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Me, poor man, my library Was dukedom large enough.
William Shakespeare
I will through and through Cleanse the foul body of th' infected world, If they will patiently receive my medicine.
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O gentle son, Upon the heat and flame of thy distemper, sprinkle cool patience.
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If money go before, all ways do lie open.
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Foolery, sir, does walk about the orb like the sun it shines everywhere.
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