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A poor thing, perhaps, but my own.
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
Perhaps
Poor
Culture
Thing
More quotes by William Shakespeare
His forward voice now is to speak well of his friend. His backward voice is to utter foul speeches and to detract.
William Shakespeare
God is our fortress, in whose conquering name Let us resolve to scale their flinty bulwarks.
William Shakespeare
In jest, there is truth.
William Shakespeare
O, when she's angry, she is keen and shrewd! She was a vixen when she went to school And though she be but little, she is fierce.
William Shakespeare
The chameleon Love can feed on the air
William Shakespeare
When clouds are seen wise men put on their cloaks When great leaves fall then winter is at hand.
William Shakespeare
I loved Ophelia. Forty thousand brothers could not, with all their quantity of love, make up my sum.
William Shakespeare
I like not fair terms and a villain's mind.
William Shakespeare
When once our grace we have forgot, Nothing goes right.
William Shakespeare
Keep thy friend Under thy own life's key.
William Shakespeare
Even as one heat another heat expels, or as one nail by strength drives out another, so the remembrance of my former love is by a newer object quite forgotten.
William Shakespeare
it is my lady! *sighs* o, it is my love! o, that she knew she were! she speaks, yet she sais nothing. what of that? her eye discourses i will answer it. i am too bold, 'tis not to me she speaks two of the fairest stars in all the heaven, having some business, do entreat her eyes to twinkle in their spheres till they return.
William Shakespeare
These cardinals trifle with me I abhor This dilatory sloth and tricks of Rome.
William Shakespeare
For my part, if a lie may do thee grace, I'll gild it with the happiest terms I have.
William Shakespeare
You, and your lady, Take from my heart all thankfulness!
William Shakespeare
Unsubstantial Death is amorous.
William Shakespeare
Who soars too near the sun, with golden wings, melts them.
William Shakespeare
Alack, the night comes on, and the bleak winds Do sorely ruffle for many miles about There's scarce a bush.
William Shakespeare
That affable familiar ghost Which nightly gulls him with intelligence.
William Shakespeare
Reflection is the business of man a sense of his state is his first duty: but who remembereth himself in joy? Is it not in mercy then that sorrow is allotted unto us?
William Shakespeare
