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The clock upbraids me with the waste of time.
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
Clock
Waste
Time
Upbraid
Jewels
More quotes by William Shakespeare
Thou hast not half that power to do me harm As I have to be hurt.
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Fair thoughts and happy hours attend on you.
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Nothing emboldens sin so much as mercy.
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Blood will have blood.
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RUMOUR: Upon my tongues continual slanders ride, The which in every language I pronounce, Stuffing the ears of men with false reports.
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They love least that let men know their loves.
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She speaks poniards, and every word stabs: if her breath were as terrible as her terminations, there were no living near her she would infect to the north star. I would not marry her, though she were endowed with all that Adam bad left him before he transgressed.
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Now I will believe that there are unicorns.
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The attempt and not the deed confounds us.
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So distribution should undo excess, and each man have enough.
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Marriage is a matter of more worth Than to be dealt in by attorneyship.
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Give it an understanding, but no tongue.
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I do repent but heaven hath pleas'd it so To punish me with this, and this with me, That I must be their scourge and minister. I will bestow him, and will answer well The death I gave him. So again good night. I must be cruel only to be kind. Thus bad begins and worse remains behind.
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Time ... thou ceaseless lackey to eternity.
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No place indeed should murder sanctuarize Revenge should have no bounds.
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Obey thy parents, keep thy word justly swear not commit not with man's sworn spouse set not thy sweet heart on proud array. * * * Keep thy foot out of brothels, thy pen from lenders' books.
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Never anger made good guard for itself.
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Now is the winter of our discontent Made glorious summer by this sun of York And all the clouds that lour'd upon our house In the deep bosom of the ocean buried.
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She's gone. I am abused, and my relief must be to loathe her.
William Shakespeare
He was a man, take him for all in all, I shall not look upon his like again.
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