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Do not spread the compost on the weeds.
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
Spread
Compost
Weeds
Confession
Weed
More quotes by William Shakespeare
Till our King Henry had shook hands with Death.
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Out of her favour, where I am in love.
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Would I were in an alehouse in London.
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the time of life is short To spend that shortness basely were too long.
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God's will! my liege, would you and I alone, Without more help, could fight this royal battle!
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By God, I cannot flatter, I do defy The tongues of soothers! but a braver place In my heart's love hath no man than yourself. Nay, task me to my word approve me, lord.
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A nun of winter's sisterhood kisses not more religiously the very ice of chastity is in them.
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I doubt not then but innocence shall makeFalse accusation blush, and tyrannyTremble at patience.
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And by that destiny to perform an act Whereof what's past is prologue, what to come In yours and my discharge.
William Shakespeare
Conscience is a blushing, shamefaced spirit than mutinies in a man's bosom it fills one full of obstacles.
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Demand me nothing: what you know, you know.
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No, no 'tis all men's office to speak patience To those that wring under the load of sorrow, But no man's virtue nor sufficiency To be so moral when he shall endure The like himself. Therefore give me no counsel: My griefs cry louder than advertisement.
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Music, moody food Of us that trade in love.
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Sir, in my heart there was a kind of fighting That would not let me sleep.
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There is nothing either good or bad but thinking makes it so.
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Live loath'd and long, Most smiling, smooth, detested parasites, Courteous destroyers, affable wolves, meek bears, You fools of fortune, trencher friends, time flies Cap and knee slaves, vapors, and minute jacks.
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I have heard of your paintings too, well enough God has given you one face, and you make yourselves another: you jig, you amble, and you lisp, and nick-name God's creatures, and make your wantonness your ignorance. Go to, I'll no more on't it hath made me mad.
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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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Though those that are betray'd Do feel the treason sharply, yet the traitor stands in worse case of woe
William Shakespeare
so full of shapes is fancy
William Shakespeare
