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Great men may jest with saints 'tis wit in them But, in the less foul profanation.
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
May
Great
Profanation
Men
Jest
Foul
Saints
Wit
Saint
Less
More quotes by William Shakespeare
Do not banish reason for inequality but let your reason serve to make the truth appear where it seems hid, and hide the false seems true.
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O, here Will I set up my everlasting rest And shake the yoke of inauspicious stars From the world-wearied flesh
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The end crowns all, And that old common arbitrator, Time, Will one day end it.
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Thy best of rest is sleep, And that thou oft provok'st yet grossly fear'st Thy death, which is no more.
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The hand that hath made you fair hath made you good.
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A good wit will make use of anything.
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I know a lady in Venice would have walked barefoot to Palestine for a touch of his nether lip
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Truth will come to sight murder cannot be hid long.
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O gentlemen, the time of life is short! To spend that shortness basely were too long, If life did ride upon a dial's point, Still ending at the arrival of an hour.
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What a terrible era in which idiots govern the blind.
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She marking them begins a wailing note And sings extemporally a woeful ditty How love makes young men thrall and old men dote How love is wise in folly, foolish-witty Her heavy anthem still concludes in woe, And still the choir of echoes answer so.
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Flesh and blood, You, brother mine, that entertain'd ambition, Expell'd remorse and nature, who, with Sebastian- Whose inward pinches therefore are most strong- Would here have kill'd your king, I do forgive thee, Unnatural though thou art.
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Hereafter, in a better world than this, I shall desire more love and knowledge of you
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A friend should bear his friend's infirmities.
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I do desire we may be better strangers.
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Therefore another prologue must tell he is not a lion
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in that small [time] most greatly lived this star of England: Fortune made his sword, By which the world's best garden he achiev'd And left it to his son imperial lord. Henry the Sixth, in infant bands crown'd King of France and England did this King succeed Whose state so many of had the managing, That they lost France and made his England bleed.
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Nothing comes from doing nothing.
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O, she's warm! If this be magic, let it be an art Lawful as eating.
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The morning steals upon the night, Melting the darkness.
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