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Let there be gall enough in thy ink, though thou write with a goose-pen, no matter.
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
Though
Write
Matter
Gall
Enough
Goose
Writing
Geese
Ink
Pens
Thou
More quotes by William Shakespeare
Now, by the world, it is a lusty wench I love her ten times more than e'er I did: O, how I long to have some chat with her!
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Make passionate my sense of hearing.
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If love be blind, it best agrees with night
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We are time's subjects, and time bids be gone.
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O! for a muse of fire, that would ascend the brightest heaven of invention.
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Life is as tedious as twice-told tale, vexing the dull ear of a drowsy man.
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The force of his own merit makes his way-a gift that heaven gives for him.
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A light wife doth make a heavy husband.
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My meaning in saying he is a good man, is to have you understand me that he is sufficient.
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I will kill thee a hundred and fifty ways.
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My wits begin to turn.
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No, Time, thou shalt not boast that I do change.
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Sorrow, like a heavy ringing bell, once set on ringing, with its own weight goes then little strength rings out the doleful knell.
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O, my offence is rank, it smells to heaven
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O serpent heart hid with a flowering face! Did ever a dragon keep so fair a cave? Beautiful tyrant, feind angelical, dove feather raven, wolvish-ravening lamb! Despised substance of devinest show, just opposite to what thou justly seemest - A dammed saint, an honourable villain!
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Put forth thy hand, reach at the glorious gold.
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Eye of newt, and toe of frog, Wool of bat, and tongue of dog, Adder's fork, and blind-worm's sting, Lizard's leg, and owlet's wing, For a charm of powerful trouble, Like a hell-broth boil and bubble.
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Nothing can come of nothing.
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Delay leads impotent and snail-paced beggary.
William Shakespeare
A glooming peace this morning with it brings The sun, for sorrow, will not show his head: Go hence, to have more talk of these sad things Some shall be pardon'd, and some punished: For never was a story of more woe Than this of Juliet and her Romeo.
William Shakespeare
