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When that the poor have cried, Caesar hath wept: Ambition should be made of sterner stuff: Yet Brutus says he was ambitious And Brutus is an honourable man.
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
Hath
Brutus
Ambition
Honourable
Says
Wept
Poor
Julius
Stuff
Caesar
Made
Countrymen
Men
Cried
Ambitious
Sterner
More quotes by William Shakespeare
Now, neighbor confines, purge you of your scum! Have you a ruffian that will swear, drink, dance, revel the night, rob, murder, and commit the oldest sins the newest kind of ways?
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If it be you that stirs these daughters' hearts Against their father, fool me not so much To bear it tamely touch me with noble anger, And let not women's weapons, water drops, Stain my man's cheeks.
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My friends were poor, but honest, so's my love.
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I have heard of some kind of men that put quarrels purposely on others, to taste their valor.
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A plague of sighing and grief! It blows a man up like a bladder.
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My prophecy is but half his journey yet, For yonder walls, that pertly front your town, Yon towers, whose wanton tops do buss the clouds, Must kiss their own feet.
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We that are true lovers run into strange capers but as all is mortal in nature, so is all nature in love mortal in folly.
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Then others for breath of words respect, Me for my dumb thoughts, speaking in effect.
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Fit for the mountains and the barbarous caves, where manners ne'er were preached.
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Here I and sorrows sit Here is my throne, bid kings come bow to it.
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Swear me, Kate, like a lady as thou art, A good mouth-filling oath.
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The venom clamours of a jealous woman poison more deadly than a mad dog's tooth.
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A little fire is quickly trodden out, Which, being suffer'd, rivers cannot quench.
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They love least that let men know their loves.
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I go, I go, look how I go, swifter than an arrow from a bow
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Mine honour is my life both grow in one Take honour from me, and my life is done.
William Shakespeare
So may he rest, his faults lie gently on him!
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Lady, you are the cruel'st she alive If you will lead these graces to the grave And leave the world no copy.
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But men are men the best sometimes forget.
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In limited professions there's boundless theft.
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