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He receives comfort like cold porridge.
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
Culinary
Cooking
Comfort
Cold
Food
Like
Porridge
Tempest
Receives
More quotes by William Shakespeare
My heart suspects more than mine eye can see.
William Shakespeare
Speak what we feel, not what we ought to say.
William Shakespeare
The hand of little employment hath the daintier sense.
William Shakespeare
Light vanity, insatiate cormorant, Consuming means, soon preys upon itself.
William Shakespeare
Too nice, and yet too true!
William Shakespeare
I like not fair terms and a villain's mind.
William Shakespeare
With mirth and laughter let old wrinkles come. And let my liver rather heat with wine, than my heart cool with mortifying groans.
William Shakespeare
In a false quarrel there is no true valor.
William Shakespeare
If her breath were as terrible as her terminations, there were no living near her, she would infect to the north star!
William Shakespeare
The last taste of sweets is sweetest last.
William Shakespeare
If you can look into the seeds of time, and say which grain will grow and which will not, speak then unto me.
William Shakespeare
There was never yet philosopher that could endure the toothache patiently
William Shakespeare
For thou hast given me in this beauteous face A world of earthly blessings to my soul, If sympathy of love unite our thoughts.
William Shakespeare
Thieves for their robbery have authority When judges steal themselves.
William Shakespeare
For oaths are straws, men's faiths are wafer-cakes, And hold-fast is the only dog.
William Shakespeare
Ay, but to die, and go we know not where.
William Shakespeare
Pain pays the income of each precious thing.
William Shakespeare
Thus conscience does make cowards of us all And thus the native hue of resolution Is slicked o'er with the pale cast of thought
William Shakespeare
Thy best of rest is sleep, And that thou oft provok'st yet grossly fear'st Thy death, which is no more.
William Shakespeare
If thou art rich, thou art poor for, like an ass, whose back with ingots bows, thou bearest thy heavy riches but a journey, and death unloads thee.
William Shakespeare
