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All hoods make not monks.
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
Appearance
Make
Hoods
Monks
Hood
Monk
More quotes by William Shakespeare
Comfort's in heaven, and we are on the earth
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Give thy thoughts no tongue.
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A wretched soul, bruised with adversity, We bid be quiet when we hear it cry But were we burdened with light weight of pain, As much or more we should ourselves complain.
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For some must watch, while some must sleep So runs the world away
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Ingratitude is monstrous and for the multitude to be ingrateful were to make a monster of the multitude of which we being members, should bring ourselves to be monstrous members.
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A man can die but once.
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I am not yet of Percy's mind, the Hotspur of the North he that kills me some six or seven dozen of Scots as a breakfast, washes his hands, and says to his wife, 'Fie upon this quiet life! I want work.
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No doubt they rose up early to observe the rite of May and, hearing our intent, Came here in grace of our solemnity.
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As you from crimes would pardon'd be, Let your indulgence set me free.
William Shakespeare
Here will be an old abusing of God's patience and the king's English.
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Speak low, if you speak love.
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If people knew how much I hated them, they'd love me for holding it in.
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Women speak two languages - one of which is verbal.
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Nay then, let the devil wear black, for I'll have a suit of sables.
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I hate ingratitude more in a man than lying, vainness, babbling, drunkenness, or any taint of vice whose strong corruption inhabits our frail blood.
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Where souls do couch on flowers we'll hand in hand.
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If I can catch him once upon the hip, I will feed fat the ancient grudge I bear him.
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Ay, but to die and go we know not where To lie in cold obstrution and to rot This sensible warm motion to become A kneaded clod and the delighted spirit To bathe in fiery floods or to reside In thrilling regions of thick-ribbed ice To be imprison'd in the viewless winds, And blown with restless violence round about The pendant world.
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I charge thee, hence, and do not haunt me thus.
William Shakespeare
My cousin's a fool, and thou art another.
William Shakespeare
