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For murder, though it have no tongue, will speak With most miraculous organ.
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
Tongue
Though
Speak
Organ
Miraculous
Organs
Murder
More quotes by William Shakespeare
I can again thy former light restore, Should I repent me: but once put out thy light, Thou cunning'st pattern of excelling nature, I know not where is that Promethean heat That can thy light relume.
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Best men oft are moulded out of faults.
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Tis much when sceptres are in children's hands, But more when envy breeds unkind division: There comes the ruin, there begins confusion.
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If love be blind, it best agrees with night
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Good God, the souls of all my tribe defend From jealousy!
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For my part, if a lie may do thee grace, I'll gild it with the happiest terms I have.
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What made me love thee? let that persuade thee, there's something extraordinary in thee
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That we would do We should do when we would, for this 'would' changes, And hath abatements and delays as many As there are tongues, are hands, are accidents, And then this 'should' is like a spendthrift sigh, That hurts by easing.
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That in the captains but a choleric word Which in the soldier is flat blasphemy.
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The dullness of the fool is the whetstone of the wits.
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Un-thread the rude eye of rebellion, and welcome home again discarded faith.
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Sit by my side, and let the world slip: we shall ne'er be younger.
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Who alone suffers suffers most i' th' mind, Leaving free things and happy shows behind But then the mind much sufferance doth o'erskip When grief hath mates, and bearing fellowship.
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Like a red morn that ever yet betokened, Wreck to the seaman, tempest to the field, Sorrow to the shepherds, woe unto the birds, Gusts and foul flaws to herdmen and to herds.
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I had rather live with cheese and garlic in a windmill.
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We are ready to try our fortunes to the last man.
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O, what damned minutes tells he o'er Who dotes, yet doubts, suspects, yet fondly loves!
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In me thou see'st the twilight of such day As after sunset fadeth in the west, Which by and by black night doth take away Death's second self, that seals up all in rest. -Sonnet 73
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To England will I steal, and there I'll steal.
William Shakespeare
Now the melancholy of God protect thee, and the tailor make thy doublet of changable taffata, for thy mind is a very opal. I would have men of such constancy put to sea, that their business might be everything, and their intent everywhere, for that's it, that always makes a good voyage of nothing.
William Shakespeare
