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Whereto serves mercy But to confront the visage of offense?
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
Visage
Confront
Serves
Offense
Mercy
Whereto
More quotes by William Shakespeare
Thou weedy elf-skinned canker-blossom!
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Merrily, merrily shall I live now, Under the blossom that hangs on the bough.
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You are not wood, you are not stones, but men And being men, hearing the will of Caesar, It will inflame you, it will make you mad.
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A young man married is a man that's marred.
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The daintiest last, to make the end most sweet.
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How much more doth beauty beauteous seem by that sweet ornament which truth doth give!
William Shakespeare
And to be merry best becomes you for, out of question, you were born in a merry hour. BEATRICE No, sure, my lord, my mother cried but then there was a star danced, and under that was I born.
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In delay there lies no plenty.
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We came into the world like brother and brother, And now let's go hand in hand, not one before another.
William Shakespeare
The violence of either grief or joy, their own enactures with themselves destroy.
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Thy food is such As hath been belch'd on by infected lungs.
William Shakespeare
April ... hath put a spirit of youth in everything.
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I shall despair. There is no creature loves me And if I die no soul will pity me: And wherefore should they, since that I myself Find in myself no pity to myself?
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Brutus, I do observe you now of late: I have not from your eyes that gentleness And show of love as I was wont to have: You bear too stubborn and too strange a hand Over your friend that loves you. Poor Brutus, with himself at war, Forgets the shows of love to other men.
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His jest will savour but of shallow wit, When thousands weep, more than did laugh at it.
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Shall I compare thee to a summer's day? Thou art more lovely and more temperate: Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May, And summer's lease hath all too short a date . . .
William Shakespeare
Nay, I am the very pink of courtesy.
William Shakespeare
Say, what abridgement have you for this evening? What masque, what music? How shall we beguile The lazy time if not with some delight?
William Shakespeare
The weakest kind of fruit drops earliest to the ground.
William Shakespeare
And worse I may be yet: the worst is not So long as we can say 'This is the worst.
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