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I must to the barber's, monsieur, for methinks I am marvellous hairy about the face.
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
Marvellous
Fashion
Face
Faces
Methinks
Must
Monsieur
Barber
Barbers
Hairy
More quotes by William Shakespeare
Ay me! for aught that I could ever read, Could ever hear by tale or history, The course of true love never did run smooth. But, either it was different in blood,- Or else it stood upon the choice of friends,- Or, if there were a sympathy in choice, War, death, or sickness did lay siege to it.
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Lay aside life-harming heaviness, And entertain a cheerful disposition.
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Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow,Creeps in this petty pace from day to day
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But that the dread of something after death, The undiscover'd country from whose bourn No traveller returns, puzzles the will And makes us rather bear those ills we have Than fly to others that we know not of?
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How long a time lies in one little word?
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Truth will come to sight murder cannot be hid long.
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So musical a discord, such sweet thunder.
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What should such fellows as I do crawling between earth and heaven?
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Hung be the heavens with black! Yield, day, to night!
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Her passions are made of nothing but the finest part of pure love
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England is safe, if true within itself.
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My pride fell with my fortunes.
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Rich honesty dwells like a miser, Sir, in a poor house as your pearl in your foul oyster.
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Farewell, good Salisbury, and good luck go with thee!
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All love's pleasure shall not match its woe.
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No, I will be the pattern of all patience I will say nothing.
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Men must learn now with pity to dispense For policy sits above conscience.
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GLOUCESTER: I do not know that Englishman alive With whom my soul is any jot at odds, More than the infant that is born to-night: I thank my God for my humility.
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Speak to me as to thy thinkings, As thou dost ruminate, and give thy worst of thoughts The worst of words.
William Shakespeare
As chaste as is the bud ere it be blown.
William Shakespeare
