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I will not be sworn but love may transform me to an oyster but I'll take my oath on it, till he have made an oyster of me he shall never make me such a fool.
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
Love
Till
Fool
Shall
May
Oyster
Take
Sworn
Made
Oysters
Make
Oath
Never
Transform
More quotes by William Shakespeare
With caution judge of probability. Things deemed unlikely, e'en impossible, experience oft hath proved to be true.
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For where thou art, there is the world itself, With every several pleasure in the world, And where thou art not, desolation.
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Let every eye negotiate for itself and trust no agent.
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Accommodated that is, when a man is, as they say, accommodated or when a man is, being, whereby a' may be thought to be accommodated,?which is an excellent thing.
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How ill white hairs become a fool and jester!
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So curses all Eve's daughters of what complexion soever.
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What's in a name? That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet.
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The means that heaven yields must be embraced, and not neglected else, if heaven would, and we will not heaven's offer, we refuse the proffered means of succor and redress.
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O fortune, fortune! all men call thee fickle.
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But O, how bitter a thing it is to look into happiness through another man's eyes.
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Mercy but murders, pardoning those that kill.
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Small things make base men proud.
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Abandon all remorse On horror's head horrors accumulate.
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Love surfeits not, Lust like a glutton dies Love is all truth, Lust full of forged lies
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I kissed thee ere I killed thee. No way but this, Killing myself, to die upon a kiss.
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Out of her favour, where I am in love.
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These violent delights have violent ends And in their triumph die, like fire and powder, Which as they kiss consume. The sweetest honey Is loathsome in his own deliciousness And in the taste confounds the appetite. Therefore love moderately long love doth so Too swift arrives as tardy as too slow.
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What's the newest grief? Each minute tunes a new one.
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Now entertain conjecture of a time When creeping murmur and the poring dark Fills the wide vessel of the universe.
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