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Anger's my meat. I sup upon myself, And so shall starve with feeding.
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
Eating
Shall
Upon
Starve
Starvation
Feeding
Meat
Anger
More quotes by William Shakespeare
Oh! it offends me to the soul to hear a robust periwig-pated fellow, tear a passion to tatters, to very rags, to split the ears of the groundlings.
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The day shall not be up so soon as I, To try the fair adventure of tomorrow.
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So doth the greater glory dim the less: A substitute shines brightly as a king Until a king be by.
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I am indeed, sir, a surgeon to old shoes when they are in great danger I recover them.
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Waste not thy time in windy argument but let the matter drop.
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The blood of youth burns not with such excess as gravity's revolt to wantonness.
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Every inordinate cup is unbless'd, and the ingredient is a devil.
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Her father lov'd me oft invited me Still question'd me the story of my life, From year to year, the battles, sieges, fortunes, That I have pass'd.
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What's done is done. The joy is in the doing.
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To be, or not to be, that is the question.
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A Devil, a born Devil on whose nature, nurture can never stick, on whom my pain, humanly taken, all lost, quite lost.
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You undergo too strict a paradox, Striving to make an ugly deed look fair.
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A man cannot make him laugh - but that's no marvel he drinks no wine.
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Ornament is but the guiled shore to a most dangerous sea.
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Youth is full of sport, age's breath is short youth is nimble, age is lame Youth is hot and bold, age is weak and cold Youth is wild, and age is tame.
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I will be free, even to the uttermost, as I please, in words.
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Then know, that I have little wealth to lose. A man I am, crossed with adversity My riches are these poor habiliments, Of which if you should here disfurnish me, You take the sum and substance that I have.
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Constant you are, But yet a woman and for secrecy, No lady closer for I well believe Thou wilt not utter what thou dost not know.
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The big round tears Cours'd one another down his innocent nose, In piteous chase.
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A sad tale's best for winter. I have one of sprites and goblins.
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