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There's never a villain dwelling in all Denmark But he's an arrant knave.
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
Never
Arrant
Knavery
Knave
Knaves
Denmark
Dwelling
Villain
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The seasons change their manners, as the year Had found some months asleep and leapt them over.
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Since brass, nor stone, nor earth, nor boundless sea, But bad mortality o'ersways their power, How with this rage shall beauty hold a plea, Whose action is no stronger than a flower?
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I would give all of my fame for a pot of ale and safety.
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An old black ram is tupping your white ewe
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I'll have no husband, if you be not he.
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Kiss me, Kate, we shall be married o'Sunday
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He doth nothing but talk of his horses.
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In nature's infinite book of secrecy A little I can read.
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This is no time to lend money, especially upon bare friendship without security.
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Infirm of purpose! Give me the daggers: the sleeping and the dead are but as pictures: ‘tis the eye of childhood that fears a painted devil
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Time travels in divers paces with divers persons.
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If money go before, all ways do lie open.
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Some sins do bear their privilege on earth, And so doth yours: your fault was not your folly Needs must you lay your heart at his dispose, Subjected tribute to commanding love, Against whose fury and unmatched force The aweless lion could not wage the fight Nor keep his princely heart from Richard's hand.
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It was a lover and his lass, With a hey, and a ho, and a hey nonino, That o'er the green corn-field did pass, In the spring time, the only pretty ring time, When birds do sing, hey ding a ding, ding Sweet lovers love the spring.
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My love is as a fever, longing still.
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But 'tis common proof, that lowliness is young ambition's ladder, whereto the climber-upward turns his face but when he once attains the upmost round, he then turns his back, looks in the clouds, scorning the vase defrees by which he did ascend.
William Shakespeare
What, all so soon asleep! I wish mine eyes Would, with themselves, shut up my thoughts.
William Shakespeare
Good things should be praised.
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No villainous bounty yet hath passed my heart Unwisely, not ignobly, have I given.
William Shakespeare
I pray thee cease thy counsel, Which falls into mine ears as profitless as water in a sieve.
William Shakespeare
