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Truly the souls of men are full of dread: Ye cannot reason almost with a man That looks not heavily and full of fear.
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
Looks
Souls
Men
Truly
Full
Almost
Fear
Cannot
Soul
Heavily
Reason
Dread
More quotes by William Shakespeare
If I may trust the flattering truth of sleep, My dreams presage some joyful news at hand. My bosom's lord sits lightly in his throne, And all this day an unaccustomed spirit Lifts me above the ground with cheerful thoughts.
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Macduff: What three things does drink especially provoke? Porter: Marry, sir, nose-painting, sleep, and urine.
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The readiness is all.
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Hang those that talk of fear.
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Why, what's the matter, That you have such a February face, So full of frost, of storm and cloudiness?
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A substitute shines brightly as a king Until a king be by, and then his state Empties itself, as dot an inland brook Into the main of waters.
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To be direct and honest is not safe.
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If one good deed in all my life I did, I do repent it from my very soul.
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The happiest youth, viewing his progress through, What perils past, what crosses to ensue, Would shut the book, and sit him down and die.
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As chaste as is the bud ere it be blown.
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The eagle suffers little birds to sing.
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The blood of youth burns not with such excess as gravity's revolt to wantonness.
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Thou dost conspire against thy friend, Iago, If thou but think'st him wronged, and mak'st his ear A stranger to thy thoughts.
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You are thought here to the most senseless and fit man for the job.
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Are you sure/That we are awake? It seems to me/That yet we sleep, we dream
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Gold were as good as twenty orators.
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Thyself shall see the act For, as thou urgest justice, be assured Thou shalt have justice, more than thou desir'st.
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Tis but a base, ignoble mind That mounts no higher than a bird can soar.
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Heaven give you many, many merry days.
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Tis in my memory lock'd, And you yourself shall keep the key of it.
William Shakespeare
