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They that have voice of lions and act of hares,--are they not monsters?
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
Hares
Lions
Monsters
Voice
More quotes by William Shakespeare
Time hath, my lord, a wallet at his back Wherein he puts alms for oblivion, A great-sized monster of ingratitudes: Those scraps are good deeds past, which are devour'd As fast as they are made, forgot as soon as done.
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To weep is to make less the depth of grief.
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Time is the old justice that examines all such offenders, and let Time try.
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What is past is prologue.
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To be direct and honest is not safe.
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Here comes a man of comfort, whose advice Hath often stilled my brawling discontent.
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A table full of welcome makes scarce one dainty dish.
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That you were once unkind befriends me now, And for that sorrow, which I then did feel, Needs must I under my transgression bow, Unless my nerves were brass or hammered steel.
William Shakespeare
Women are angels, wooing: Things won are done joy's soul lies in the doing: That she beloved knows naught, that knows not this-- Men prize the thing ungained more than it is.
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The cat will mew, and dog will have his day.
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Good old grandsire ... we shall be joyful of thy company.
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For never was a story of more woe than this of Juliet and her Romeo.
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Thou dost conspire against thy friend, Iago, If thou but think'st him wronged, and mak'st his ear A stranger to thy thoughts.
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He is white-livered and red-faced.
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Fear no more the heat o' th' sun Nor the furious winters' rages Thou thy worldly task hast done, Home art gone, and ta'en thy wages. Golden lads and girls all must, As chimney-sweepers, come to dust.
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Lord, what fools these mortals be!
William Shakespeare
Juliet is the east and i am the sun.
William Shakespeare
O, I have suffered With those that I saw suffer! a brave vessel (Who had no doubt some noble creature in her) Dashed all to pieces! O, the cry did knock Against my very heart! Poor souls, they perished!
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thou art the best o' the cut-throats
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Wisely, and slow. They stumble that run fast.
William Shakespeare